


Stars, hide your fires

by Pinkiiie



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, boys can cry too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-04-29 01:04:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 37,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5110769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinkiiie/pseuds/Pinkiiie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No. No way.</p><p>Murphy watched as the etchings appeared on his knuckles, as if carved with a knife. It hurt. He bit back another groan, trapping his lower lip between his teeth and clamping down hard. He heard the guard behind Abbey gasp and take a few steps back. Heard Kane bark out a worried ‘Blake’. It was over soon enough and all Murphy could do was to stare at his hand.</p><p>The letters that now decorated it were an angry red, glaringly so against the paleness of his skin. His heart pounded against his chest as soon as he laid eyes on them. It was not a word. He knew it was a name. Bellamy. What kind of name was that?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by http://acorn-lover.tumblr.com/post/124755904305/soulmate-au-where-you-are-not-born-with-a-mark-and
> 
> IMPORTANT: This is version one! On the second chapter there is a version of this with an alternate ending - the sequel will be based on the alternate ending version!

 

There was a new a guard today. Murphy could hear the man’s voice as he banged on Dickson’s cell, telling him to ‘shut the hell up’. Which, obviously, wouldn’t help. The guy was in prison, they could not float him for another couple of months so why the hell would he shut up? Dickson liked to sing until his lungs burst when he was hungry and seeing how it was soon time for lunch of course he would make a lot of noise.Apparently no one had informed this new guard of that.

Just like Dickson, Murphy himself quite liked lunch. Breakfast and dinner too. Those three times a day were the only time he got to leave the cold and grey box he called home, four if you counted shower time but he did not. He would sit down with his tray next to Mbege and they would eat in silence, scanning the room, discussing the officers, checking in the fresh meat and so on. Granted, the food they were served was horrible and there was no touching allowed between inmates but at least he got to look at something else besides the walls of his cell or the occasional glance at an officer walking by his door.

He knew though, that today’s lunch was not going to be pleasant. Today was just not a good day. There was a new guard and Murphy was itching all over, something crawling underneath his skin trying to force its way out. It had been a while now, since he last had that feeling. That feeling had left him with a two week suspension from the dining hall, forcing him to eat his meals alone in his cell. But it had been worth it too. The feeling had disappeared, as it always did. It had stayed gone until now. Until today.

Today was just not going to be a good day.

-

The doors opened automatically, swinging to the side with an electrical beep and Murphy got to his feet. He followed the stream of people in a neat row towards the cafeteria. Every inmate kept their distance to the one in front of them. Murphy found it ridiculous. The rule had been implemented after an inmate had touched another and the marks had appeared on both their skins. Soulmates. The Ark only contained about four hundred people so the odds that one would find someone to share marks with were formidably low. But killing one, sorry, floating one, would mean killing the other bearer of the mark. They were linked somehow and if one stopped breathing so would the other and since there was a chance that one of them might be pardoned and the government didn’t want to be put on trial for murder both were pardoned when they came of age. Since then the rule of no touching had been implemented, with guards wearing full body gear and gloves at all times in case they had to intervene. It was all bullshit if you asked Murphy. Which, no one ever did. But it was. The odds of it happening again were so low that it was laughable.

He took his tray, heading over to his and Mbege’s table where the other one had already taken a seat. While slipping down next to his friend they both shared a curt nod before Mbege continued eating and Murphy started. Or he would have if his eyes had not landed on the only unfamiliar face in the room. The new guard.

The man was handsome, Murphy could admit that, and his voice had been pleasant. Unfortunately, he would have to smash up that pretty face since most of the guards could read him by now. They all seemed to know when the feeling was back. He did not know what his tell was but he knew that if they had not informed this new guy about Dickson then they probably had not informed him about Murphy.

One glance around the room confirmed that the new guy was the one closest to him. If Murphy was to start making a fuzz, he would have to come over.

“John. No.” apparently the guards were not the only ones able to read him since Mbege gave him a distressed look and a small groan at the smirk Murphy directed his way.

“Just keep your head down, like always. You’ll be fine” he mumbled to his friend before getting to his feet. He grabbed his tray and with threw it with a roar against the wall closest to the line for the food. The new guard was on his way in an instance.

“What the fuck inmate, sit down. Hands on your head. Now!”

Murphy glared at him, anger and something else blazing from his eyes. The fact that this guy had nothing to do with that anger was not relevant. At least not for Murphy. He just needed to act on it, get it out of his system so he could reboot and live through another couple of weeks in this hell.

“I said now inmate!” the guard yelled and Murphy could see how the rest of the cafeteria either looked at him or glared down in their food. No one moved but the guard, the rest of them coming towards the ruckus. It was now or never.

With a smirk Murphy placed his hands almost mockingly behind his head while waiting for the guard to come closer. As soon as he was close enough, Murphy drew back one of his hands and swung it against the guard’s face. It connected with the man’s cheekbone with a sickening sound yet he barely flinched. Murphy’s smirk disappeared the instance he saw the guard bring back his own hand and he had little to now time to see it coming towards him before everything went dark.

-

“I believe it was highly unnecessary to use such force Officer Blake.”

There was a flashlight beaming into his eyes and he groaned, trying desperately to swat it away.

“I used to force I deemed necessary doctor Griffin. The inmate was violent.”

The inmate was in the damn room and Murphy wished they would stop talking above his head. He was soon going to be fully conscious and it was not very nice to talk about him like he was not there.

“Mister Murphy is known for these outbursts and is usually subdued without having to be beaten. Kane, for heaven’s sake, don’t you inform your guards of the more memorable of the delinquents?”

“The inmate has behaved himself quite well for a while now, I didn’t think it necessary on Officer Blake’s first day. It won’t be repeated, Abbey. You have my word.”

Murphy groaned again, blinking his eyes open and meeting the view of Councilman Kane, doctor Griffin and the new guard. The doctor was crouching next to him, smiling at him when she noticed he had come to. The other two stood slightly behind her, Kane with his arms crossed over his chest and the guard with his hands behind his back. The first one eyed him with irritation, the latter with almost relief.

“Hello John, how are you feeling?” Abbey Griffins voice was in its own way very soothing, very friendly despite the fact that Murphy had put himself in this position. He had always liked Abbey. She was nice.

“Good.” He answered tersely, giving her a little but not very forced smile that made his cheek hurt. Bastard could really throw a punch. But she kept looking at him, obviously not satisfied with the answer and he gave a sigh.

“It came back,” he admitted quietly with his eyes casted down at the floor. “I didn’t mean to- well I did but- sorry.” He mumbled, twiddling his fingers at the hem of his shirt. Staring at them when his knuckles started to burn slightly. Abbey seemed to notice his eyes widening and when he gave a painful groan she grabbed his hand.

No. No way.

Murphy watched as the etchings appeared on his knuckles, as if carved with a knife. It hurt. He bit back another groan, trapping his lower lip between his teeth and clamping down hard. He heard the guard behind Abbey gasp and take a few steps back. Heard Kane bark out a worried ‘Blake’. It was over soon enough and all Murphy could do was to stare at his hand.

The letters that now decorated it were an angry red, glaringly so against the paleness of his skin. His heart pounded against his chest as soon as he laid eyes on them. It was not a word. He _knew_ it was a name. _Bellamy._ What kind of name was that?

With that thought he looked up, gaping up at the guard who met his look of confused fear with one of his own. Across his cheekbone, across _Bellamy’s_ cheekbone, the name _‘Jonathan’_ were etched. Less angry red against the other’s tan and thus a little less visible but still there nonetheless.

Murphy looked on as one of Bellamy’s hands shot up to his face, letting the fingers graze over the name. The look of confused fear turned into an anger Murphy was not quite sure he had seen before as he with no doubt felt the roughness of the etchings. His look of anger rivaled that of Commander Shumway’s the first time Murphy had acted out. It was really a sight to behold.

Abbey quickly took control as she got to her feet, ushering both Kane and Bellamy towards the door while smiling just as gently as before at Murphy. He could see the uncertainty she tried to hide in her eyes though.

“We’ll be right back John, don’t worry. I’ll soon be back. Have some water and then we’ll talk later.”

He watched the door close behind them. No fucking way. His hands were shaking and he forced his gaping mouth shut. The odds were laughably low. He carded his hands through his hair, letting the soft strands glide through his fingers while he swallowed harshly. His throat was bone dry.

Abbey had mentioned water. He needed water. Glancing to the side he was a pitcher of water by his nightstand along with a glass. It must have been Abbey who brought it, the guards knew better than to leave such things in there with him.

_That had been one time though_.

Getting to his feet, he staggered over to the pitcher. He did not care to fill the glass, merely drank from the pitcher itself in heavy chugs. Abbey would back soon. They would talk. This was just surely a weird misunderstanding. They would talk. It would be fine.

He placed the pitcher down on the table again, settling himself on the edge of the bed. There was just no way he of all people had a _soulmate_. It had to be a mistake. A mistake that would be solved as soon as Abbey came back.

-

Three days. It had been _three days_. Neither Abbey or Kane or even Bellamy had returned in three days. The pitcher had been collected when he fell asleep the first night and since then his meals had come on regular times through his door. They had even used the small shutter on the door to bring it in. They had not used that method since the third time Murphy attacked a guard. It was ridiculous. It was like he had leprosy or something. Like he was something worth avoiding. It stung.

The redness on his knuckles had toned down though, a dark pink by now. When it was healed it was apparently supposed to look like a scar. Gently he grazed over it, and if anyone ever mentioned it he would deny having shuddered while doing so.

Still, Bellamy was a fucking weird name. Bellamy Blake. At least _Bellamy_ adorned his hand which meant he could hide it, his _soulmate_ did not have the same luck. He could understand why the man had not been back. When one get punched by a prisoner on one’s first day of work across the face and whoops the person turns out to be one’s soulmate and one have to bear the person’s name on one’s cheek for the rest of one’s life it is totally understandable that one would avoid said soulmate. He would have been pretty pissed about a name across his face for the world to see too.

This whole soulmate business should however mean that he would be pardoned. He would be lying if he said he had not thought about that. There had been plenty of time to think about it already. He was just not sure whether the thought of being pardoned filled him with relief or dread. He had been in here for years now, to get out again would be wonderful. He was not sure he would fit in with the rest of the Arkers though. And he had also reconciled with the thought of dying a long time ago now. Assault on a councilman, or any high ranked member of the Ark, did normally result in floating even when one strand trial for it but with Bellamy in the picture he would be more or less immune to the Ark’s legal system. He would be slapped on his wrists if he overstepped boundaries but unless Bellamy joined him on a crime spree, which Murphy deemed highly unlikely, they could not float him.

He sighed, vaguely listening to Dickson’s false pitch. He had been singing for about half an hour now so lunch had to be approaching. His stomach rumbled and he picked up the book he had started on yesterday to get his mind off it.

But he was right and soon he heard the doors open with the electrical beep, all but his. He was however surprised when instead of the shutter opening, the whole door opened and he sat up immediately with a frown and pulled his knees to his chest. He expected Byrne or Miller to be delivering it but instead he was met by the sight of one Bellamy Blake carrying his tray of food. And he didn’t seem too pleased about it either. Murphy’s eyes fell on the big band aid stuck across the man’s cheekbone, covering Murphy’s name up. Rude. His name was at least common and quite nice, Bellamy did not have to cover it up like that.

The tray was placed on the bed beside him, with Bellamy avoiding touching him and looking at him before making his way towards the door. To say that it was annoying as hell was a severe understatement.

“Hey!” he growled, planting his feet on the floor. At least the man stopped. “It’s been three days. Where the fuck is Abbey? Or hell, even _Kane._ Three days of this fucking bullshit isolation and then you come in with food like it’s nothing and you don’t even have the _decency_ to look me in the eyes or explain anything?” He glared at the guard’s back, hands clasping the bedframe angrily. For a little while it looked like the man was just going to walk away and then he looked at Murphy over his shoulder. There was no anger, merely a detachment that made all the appetite Murphy might have had disappear into the farthest corner of the Ark.

“I don’t need to explain anything to an inmate. Councilman Kane is a busy man and so is doctor Griffin. When you’re done eating, place the tray by the door, knock two times before stepping back to the bed and I will collect it.” And with that he left, closing the door behind him.

What a _nice_ soulmate he had gotten himself.

-

Two more days and then Kane came. Right after dinner as soon as Bellamy had taken his tray Marcus Kane entered with a serious look on his face. He had his arms clasped behind him and his back as straight and stiff as a board.

“What can I do for you councilman?” Murphy gave him a cold little smile, smelling bad news already. Kane eyed him up and down before clearing his throat.

“The council tried your case,” Murphy’s eyebrow drew together and he got to his feet.

“I won’t be eighteen for another six months.” He blurted out, feeling cold all of a sudden. Kane merely gave him a look full of annoyance.

“We know, but considering the special circumstances around your case which have just been brought to light-“ there was a slight raise of one of the corners of Kane’s mouth in a sneer “the council decided to push it forward.” Once again the man cleared his throat, arms crossing over his chest. He did not look away though, met Murphy’s gaze straight ahead and Murphy did appreciate that on some level. “Due to the nature of your crime which put you in here and the violent outbursts you’ve been prone to do, we on the council believe you to be a danger to the citizens of the Ark. It is our decision that you shall be floated when reaching the age of eighteen.” Murphy stared at him, feeling a bubbling sensation of nausea cursing through his body. He tried to swallow down the lump forming in his throat. The council his ass. He knew who had urged for this decision.

“What about Bellamy? If I die, so will he.” He tried almost meekly, having trouble finding his voice. Kane had moved his gaze to the ceiling now but Murphy could still see the resentment in his eyes.

“Yes, well, Officer Blake was present at the meeting and… And he generously offered, in order to make our decision easier, to be floated alongside you.” There went his pardon. What a dick he had managed to become attached to. A dick with a hero complex it would seem. He gave a laugh, a slightly manic and short laugh.

“You’re gonna let him do that?” Marcus Kane lifted his gaze, once more meeting Murphy’s eyes. Kane might be jerk more often than not but this had to be against even his morals to allow.

“If it means that we are able to get rid of you then yes.” Murphy felt his throat constrict and he gave a curt nod. With ‘we’ he meant the chancellor.

“Was that all, councilman?” he managed, hands clenched at his side while he tried to keep his composure. Kane gave a nod before turning his back on Murphy and leaving the room. That whole thing of having ‘reconciled with the thought of death’ seemed really overrated right now.

-

There was a frown on Bellamy’s face when he collected next day’s dinner tray. Murphy ignored it, glaring into the wall at the opposite side of the room with his chin propped up on his knees. He had his back to the headboard and could see the guard from the corner of his eye.

“You haven’t eaten today, inmate.” The guard stated, fixing that frown on Murphy. That stupid band aid was still covering the name.

“Fuck off.” He hissed and turned his back on the man. So what if he did not have an appetite? Who would in his position?

“You sure you don’t want anything from this tray?” the man asked with annoyance lacing his words.

“Fuck off.” He repeated, breathing out in relief when he heard the door close.

-

Another day of his ‘hunger strike’ had earned him the right to be amongst other prisoners again. Maybe they thought that he would have more difficulty refusing food when everyone else ate around him. That or his punishment for the outburst had been served. Whatever the case he found himself seated next to Mbege for breakfast at their usual table.

His stomach hated him. It growled and whined and hurt at the sight of food. He wanted to devour the disgusting porridge and yet he merely stared at it. Mbege did thankfully not comment on it but he shoved his glass of juice towards Murphy with a firm look. It took all of Murphy’s willpower to down it, in one go, before giving his friend a little smile. Mbege’s crime would definitely be pardoned, he still had eight months to go but Murphy was certain of it. At least his friend had family that would mourn him if he was not, the same family who would be thrilled to welcome him back when he was. He had to be. There had to be some justice in this world and Mbege deserved that justice.

“That guard is staring at you.” He saw Mbege’s eyes drift towards the closest guard-post and followed his eyes there. Bellamy wasn’t staring per se but he was indeed paying extra attention to their table.

“I punched him in the face, of course he’s staring. Probably just fuming that he didn’t land a better punch himself.” Murphy deflected with a well-practiced smirk. The other prisoner gave him a raised eyebrow while switching their trays, clearly wary of the answer. He gave Murphy a hesitant look, only digging in once Murphy gave him a nod of approval.

A glance to the guard-post revealed that Bellamy had seen it all and he did not look too pleased with it. Well he could just go fuck himself. There were no rules that prohibited it so he could not get punished for it and waste was frowned upon so Murphy actually deserved some praise.

“What happened to you hand?” Mbege’s dark eyes were firmly fixed on the knuckles of his right hand and Murphy hurriedly pulled down his sleeve over it, giving his friend a tight smile.

“Scraped it a few weeks back and it healed pretty badly, don’t you remember? When Dax tripped me.” The other delinquent did not look too convinced but gave a nod and continued eating. It was close enough to the truth to pass and Murphy was thankful for that.

-

“You know…they might still pardon you…”

Murphy glanced up from his food, quickly dragging his sleeve down over the name and giving Mbege a confused smile. “What?”

His friend nodded towards Murphy’s plate with a serious look.

“They might still pardon you so you should eat. They’ll start looking at your case a month before you turn eighteen and after they start reviewing it the guards usually make it easy to guess how it’s going so… you could stop eat then, right? No use to starve now. I say eat, get fat, maybe you won’t fit in the airlock.” He gave a crooked smile and a little laugh. Murphy found himself chuckling a little bit before nodding.

“I guess you’re right.”

“Always am, dude.”

Murphy gave him a grin and poked in his food, eating a few mouthfuls before the nausea took over and he gave up. A glance at Mbege earned him a warm smile though and Murphy tried his best to swallow around the lump in his throat and return the smile

-

His door opened abruptly two weeks after he had been released from solitude. It was not mealtime, it was not shower time and it was not Visitation Day. It was unexpected. It was weird. It put Murphy on edge and he put down his book and stood up just as his visitor entered.

“Officer Blake, what can I do for you?” he drawled out, crossing his arms over his chest.

The guard was quiet when he walked over. Murphy saw the door close behind him and furrowed his brows. Bad. This was bad. Normally, he wasn’t one to back down. However, with Bellamy’s heavy steps he took a few steps to the side, towards the wall to make more room between them, to not be trapped between an angry guard and his bed.

It was not enough. Soon Bellamy was directly in front of him. There was a harsh fury burning like embers in his eyes. It made it a little harder for Murphy to breath and he put his arm out, desperately trying to keep the other man at bay. Bellamy ignored it completely. He grabbed it with a strong hand and shoved it out of the way, squeezing it as he went while glaring down at the prisoner.

“Why the hell aren’t you eating?” Murphy winced at the harsh grip on his arm and he tried to pull away with a glare. Great idea Murphy, back into a wall. Really clever.

“Let go.”

“Answer the question inmate.” Murphy snorted angrily, pushing at Bellamy with his free arm.

“Why does it matter if I eat? I’m gonna die anyway. And let the fuck go off me!” He pushed once more as Bellamy dropped his arm and took a step back. His brown eyes stared at him in silence and it made Murphy uncomfortable. At least the smoldering anger seemed to have settled.

“Besides, I am eating. Mbege sees to that. He guilt trips me into eating at least something for every meal. ” He gave another angry snort, shaking his head and leaning against the wall. Discreetly, he rubbed his arm trying to hold back a grimace. That was going to bruise.

“You’re not eating enough.” Bellamy grumbled. His dark eyes made him almost weak at the knees, his soulmate was not just handsome. Up close like this Murphy could admit, had to admit, that the man was gorgeous. He almost licked his lips. Almost. He needed a distraction. Anger of his own would have to suffice.

“Don’t worry, you won’t have to die until your official time is up.” His voice was practically dripping with venom as his eyes raked up and down over the guard. “How noble of you, by the way, to throw your life away so that I could die. Really honorable of you, _Bellamy Blake_.”

The older man met his gaze, mouth pressed tightly together and eyes carefully guarded. His hands were clenched at his sides and Murphy noticed that he had taken another step back.

“But I guess it was easy, huh? Since we’re strangers I mean? To make the decision that I deserved to be floated. You’re such a _good_ soulmate. I’m so lucky to have gotten _you_.”

Bellamy huffed, crossing his arms across his chest.

“You would have been floated even without me.” He grumbled.

“Yeah, but after having had three days to think about the whole soulmate thing I thought you would be my ticket to a new beginning. To a new start. Where I could clean up my act and create something better, something other, for me than death.” He swallowed the lump in his throat, walking around Bellamy to his bed. He picked up his book and laid down, staring at the pages instead of the guard. “Should’ve known that luck like that wasn’t for me.” He muttered bitterly.

“Inmate-“

“You know my name, asshole. It’s slapped right across your cheek for fuck’s sake.” He had not meant to growl but he was pissed off. Even Byrnes, who loathed him, had never called him inmate. Bellamy looked at him, lips pressed in a tight line again before he gave a sigh.

“Jonathan, it was-“

“Murphy. I prefer Murphy.” Bellamy gave him an annoyed look, pulling his hand through his hair. Only now did the prisoner realize that the guard was not wearing his gloves.

“Well, _Murphy_ , you’re right. I don’t know you. And I’m sorry if my decision was taken as something personal, I assure you that it wasn’t. I have my own reasons for it. If I could have given you another chance, I would’ve. Even if you did plant a pretty good punch on me”

Murphy’s hands gripping the book turned almost white as he stared blankly at the pages.

“Then why can’t you?”

There was no answer and when he turned his gaze towards the guard he was looking incredibly wistful. Soon the wistfulness turned into an apologetic look which he directed at Murphy and he gave another sigh.

“I just can’t, can’t that be enough of an answer. At least for now?” Murphy shrugged and stared back into his book with a whispered ‘I guess’.

A few minutes passed before he looked over at the guard again with a questioningly look on his face.

“Was there anything else?”

His soulmate gave a little nod, straightening up and put his hands behind his back. He cleared his throat and looked up at the ceiling.

“Doctor Griffin only let the agreement pass on the condition that during the six months left until your eighteenth birthday I would be offered leisure hours that I could spend in here with you. One or two per day. And-“ Murphy raised an eyebrow at the older man. “I’m now asking you if this is something you would…. Enjoy. It would give me and you an opportunity to get to know one another. If that is something you want of course.” Murphy mulled it over in his head before sighing.

“If doctor Griffin recommended it then… sure. Bring a deck of cards or something.”

Bellamy nodded and then gave a curt nod before moving towards the door that opened for him. Murphy’s gaze followed him out before it returned once more to his book, but everything he tried to read after that visit evaded his mind and he soon gave up.

-

He was quite sure that Mbege had seen the name. He must have. Meeting up three times a day and sitting next to each other while moving mostly hands. He had to have seen it. But he had not commented on it even if he had.

“Hello.”

Murphy raised his eyes and furrowed his brows in confusion when a lovely brunette sat down in front of him. Mbege raised an eyebrow and eyed the girl.

“No one sits there. Find another seat.”

The girl merely gave them both a smile before turning her astoundingly beautiful hazel eyes towards Murphy.

“Nah, I think me and the brother in law have some things to talk to.”

Murphy almost choked on the sip of water he had just taken before he stared up at her with an even more confused look. Mbege gave her a mirroring one.

“What’s your name girl?”

“Octavia Blake.”

_Blake_.

Murphy froze all over. No. Not even. Siblings were impossible. Forbidden. His eyes glanced at the guard in charge. Bellamy had not gotten dinner duty today. To his horror however, he noticed how Mbege took his tray and got to his feet.

“I guess you two have some things to talk about. See you tomorrow Murphy.” And with that he was moving away before Murphy had time to protest even a little bit. Feeling both panic and resignation, he turned towards the girl and eyed her with his mouth pressed tightly together in a thin line. There were some resemblance to Bellamy’s face he supposed.

The girl smiled at him, eyeing him just as much as he did her before her hands shot out and grabbed his arm. She dragged it not-so-discreetly across the table to look down at his knuckles, scraping her thumb over the name.

“I knew it!” she hissed with a happy face. Murphy pulled back his arm and looked around him nervously, pulling down his sleeve over the carvings.

“Knew what?” he growled angrily, turning his gaze down to his food.

“That the stupid band aid my brother has been wearing was hiding something. I saw the fight so… I mean, I’ve seen you attack some guards by now but you’re not _that_ strong. You don’t leave scrape marks for weeks so he had to be hiding something.”

Murphy glared at her, eyes filled with annoyance.

“Brother? Are you talking about Officer Blake? That’s impossible. No one has siblings.”

The girl huffed at him and crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back in her chair.

“Well obviously some do. And that is obviously why I’m here. One can have more than one child, but it’s forbidden to have it so… the parents get floated and the extra kid get sent to prison. Most of the time, those children get pardoned though. It’s not like they can be punished for being born, they didn’t choose that.” She gave him a dazzling smile. “Which means we should get to know each other so I’ll have a friend other than my brother when I get out.”

Murphy stared at her in confusion.

A friend other than her brother when she got out.

Did she- did she not know? Had Bellamy not told her?

Well, if he had not told her yet it had to be a reason for it and it was not Murphy’s place to tell her of the mess so instead he merely sucked it in and gave her a terse smile.

“You don’t want me as a friend, Pocahontas, so just… Back off. Your brother has made it quite clear that he wants nothing to do with me. When I get out. So, find friends elsewhere.” He nodded towards the two druggies Jasper and Monty, who were eating together and talking to Spacewalker. “Now, do you see those guys over there, there what you would call _nice people_. Go make friends with them. Alright?”

The girl, Octavia, did not move. Instead she gave a chuckle and leaned over the table to snatch some of his untouched vegetables.

“My brother is going to want you around when you get out. He just doesn’t know it yet. Give it some time, he’ll realize you’re his type.”

Murphy snorted in amusement, a smile tugging at his lips as he slapped her hand away when she tried to sneak away more food.

“His type? What about my type? How do you know your brother’s my type?” Octavia grinned at him.

“Because he’s normally everyone’s type.”

“Really? Well, he ain’t mine.” Murphy muttered albeit with a grin as he raised his glass and downed the last of its content. Octavia stole the last of his carrots with a cocky grin, chewing it loudly while looking him over.

“We’ll see.” She almost sang before getting her tray and disappearing towards the door.

-

The first week, and most part of the second, the two of them merely played cards. Bellamy would show up a bit after dinner, there would be curt nods exchanged and then they would play for an hour, maybe two. After that Bellamy would collect the deck and give him a low ‘goodnight’ and disappear again.

It was nice and neutral.

It was also frustratingly boring.

He was so going to ask Bellamy to bring something else than cards. Anything else than cards.

“What are you in for?”

Murphy looked up from his cards, startled by the sound of Bellamy’s voice in the otherwise quiet room. The other man was looking at him, studying him. The prisoner shifted in his seat, turning his gaze back to his hand while clearing his throat.

“Haven’t you read my case?”

“Nope. They offered to let me read it but I declined. I’d rather hear stuff like that from you.”

The quietness settled between them once more. At least for a little while.

“So what are you in for?”

“Didn’t they tell you that when they tried my case?”

“Wasn’t there for that part. I was only there at the end, right before they were to deliberate.”

Murphy glanced at him, throwing away two cards and picking up two new while he pondered on how much to tell him.

Half seemed alright.

“I attacked the chancellor. I crushed a mirror and took one of the shards, broke into the chancellor’s apartment and ambushed him.” He said flatly, keeping his eyes on Bellamy to gauge his reaction.

Bellamy changed three cards with wrinkled eyebrows, eyeing them quickly before turning his brown and surprisingly warm eyes back at Murphy.

“Why?” he asked with a puzzled look and Murphy was yet again pondering how much to tell. This whole socializing charade was intended for them to get to know each other after all. Murphy bit his lip, grinding it between his teeth before giving in. He was going to die, so why keep it in?

“Because I got the flu.” He almost smiled at Bellamy’s raised eyebrow, not waiting for the older man to open his mouth to ask ‘why’ again. “Because, after I got the flu my dad stole medicine and got floated. Because, after my dad was floated my mom started to drink heavily. So heavily in fact that she died in a pool of her own disgusting vomit. But not before she told me that I was the reason my dad was dead.”

Bellamy had lowered his cards to the table, looking at Murphy with something that could almost be read as pity. Murphy hated it.

“So, since I didn’t wanna face the fact that I might be what killed him I decided to lay the blame on someone else. On the one who actually sent him to his death. I wanted him to feel what my dad felt, to feel what I felt and I wanted to see him die.”

The feeling was starting to manifest itself again, tickling through his arteries and pulsing through his veins. He swallowed harshly. Not know. Not again. He met Bellamy’s gaze dead on, his eyes cold and revealing nothing of the emotions wriggling inside his chest.

“That’s why they want to float me. That’s why they want me dead. It’s personal, I’m considered violent and I’m expendable since I will most likely be more of a burden to this society than anything else.”

He put his cards down on the table, clenching his hands into fists once they had slipped down onto his lap. He tried to still them. Tried to force down the familiar feeling coursing through his body, spreading like a virus and urging him to act. Act upon that it.

A glance in Bellamy’s direction, since he had lowered his gaze somewhere in the beginning of that last bit, provided Murphy with nothing. The other man sat like a statue with a careful mask hiding what he was thinking or feeling. Murphy might have overshared, at least for a first time conversation. Bellamy might not want to come back tomorrow.

It was a relief.

It was also not.

The room had turned too quiet, the atmosphere too still. He got to his feet in a swift movement and quickly put distance between him and Bellamy by settling down on the bed. His legs were drawn up to his chest with his arms around them as he gazed at the guard with his chin resting on top of his knees.

“Is that why you don’t have access to water like the other inmates? They all have a pitcher in their rooms, all day long.” Bellamy’s eyes danced over him, like he was some sort of puzzle. “Are they afraid of you... Using it?”

Murphy tried, he really tried, to contain the small and bitter laugh that escaped through his lips. The traitorous bastards let it through and he leaned back until his shoulder blades hit the wall. His head almost lolled back against the wall, letting him stare blankly up at the ceiling as he remembered the blood.

“They’re afraid of that, yes. But not because of the whole Jaha spectacle. No… there was… there was an incident. Similar to when I attacked you, only a few weeks after I got here.”

God, there had been so much blood. For such a little cut there had been so. much. blood. And a little bit of his own as well. Absently, he stroked the scars decorating his fingertips.

“You wanna talk about that one?” Bellamy’s smooth and warm voice cut through the room’s quietness like a knife through butter, completely effortless. And for a split second Murphy actually considered spilling that story as well.

“It’s in my file if you’re curious.” He countered instead with perhaps a bit too much bite in his voice. He had tried for playful and failed miserably.

He heard Bellamy sigh. He heard how cards were shuffled together. It was to be expected though. Not just because of Murphy’s little story time, but also since their time for today was almost at its end. He did nothing until he heard the shuffling of someone getting to their feet. That was when he raised his head properly and stared at Bellamy’s back as the man moved towards the door.

“Will you be back tomorrow?”

The words were out before he could stop them. When he repeated them in his head they sounded astoundingly pathetic. If Bellamy though the same, he thankfully did not show it.

“Yeah, yeah I will. Want me to bring the cards?”

“Sure.”

“Alright, goodnight Murphy.”

At that, the guard left the room and the door closed with an electrical beep behind him, leaving Murphy to stare at the cold metal instead.

“Goodnight… Bellamy.” He mumbled into the empty room, giving a sigh before pulling his covers up to his neck where he sat.

His mind was buzzing, going through every detail of the visit while he tried to push down the feeling that screamed inside him, the one he could not quite classify. Despite the room’s quietness it was way too noisy and Murphy laid down, covering his head with the covers.

Someone seemed to still like him in this universe, thank the stars, and sleep came quickly and pulled him down to join it inside a darkness more vast than space itself.

-

The next day, right before the doors were supposed to open up for breakfast, Abbey entered his room. She was wearing an apologetic smile and stayed near the closed door. She gave him a once over, looking very relieved.

“Good morning Murphy.”

He had not moved since last night, sitting with his back to the wall on his bed, and he raised an eyebrow.

“It was at least.” He muttered, pulling the covers up to his chin again since they had slipped down a bit. “What can I do for you, doctor?”

“I’m sorry about our talk. I really wanted to have it but it was delayed a bit. Would you mind having it now or should I come back later?” she smiled gently at him, her voice and warm eyes making the anger and irritation vaporize from his body and he gave a tired sigh. It was better they had it now, or she would take up Bellamy time.

Murphy grimaced slightly to himself at that. _Bellamy time_? Really? He was going to bring that expression to his grave.

“We can talk now.” He patted the bed, the space next to him. “You can sit down if you’d like.”

“Oh, thank you.” Abbey sat down with a small smile. Her hands were folded and resting in her lap. “How are you, Murphy? I heard you weren’t eating well?”

Murphy merely shrugged at her question, grey eyes lowered to the floor. He was eating. Mbege made sure of that.

“I eat.” He mumbled when she kept staring at him. “I just don’t have too much of an appetite you know. Kinda hard to have one when you know you’re gonna get sucked out in space in the nearby future.”

Abbey nodded with a somber look on her face. It was better than pity. He absolutely loathed pity. He played with the edge of the blanket, twiddling it through and around his fingers while trying to avoid looking anymore at the woman sitting just a little bit away from him.

“I wanted to fight harder for you, I want you to know that. That is not the fate I would have seen for you but… The rest of the council was determined to ensure it was decided this way. I fought as much as I was capable of Murphy and regrettably it wasn’t enough. I’m sorry.”

She reminded him of his mother, what little he could remember about her before the floating. Her warmth, her voice, a time when she cared. Abbey reminded him of all that and it made his chest ache if only a little.

When he didn’t answer her, Abbey gave a sigh and tilted her head. He could see it in the corner of his eye.

“So how are you and Bellamy getting along? I heard he was coming around here like I suggested.” She was smiling at him now. Murphy’s heart tugged at the sight of it, at how enthusiastic she sounded. He almost did not answer.

“Good. It’s going good. We talk, play cards and that’s about it so… Good.” He chewed on his bottom lip, glancing at her almost glowing face. “Can I… can I ask you something?” he wondered after having cleared his throat. Abbey nodded.

“Why’d you slip that into the deal? Why did you suggest he’d come here and hang out?”

The woman’s smile slipped a little and turned as somber as her look had been previously. She reached out a hand and placed it on one of his knees. He allowed it. It was oddly comforting.

“Because I hoped, and still do, that if he spends time with you and learns who you are, who you really are, he might change his mind. If he does, the council’s decision will be null and void.”

He thought it over. He admired her spirit. He really did. But he suspected that if Bellamy were to change his mind it would have nothing to do with him. It was very sweet that she had thought of that scenario though.

“We can always hope.” He added after a bit of silence as he forced a fake smile her way. He would have loved to give her a real one but he did not feel like he could muster it at the moment, no matter how much he wanted to give her one.

It seemed to be enough for her though as she nodded and added a low ‘we will hope’. Her hand slipped from his knee and she got to her feet.

“So… Is there anything you want to talk to me about? Do you want to have regular chats with me? You do know you can talk to me whenever you want, right?”

Murphy shook his head, giving her another fake smile.

“Nah, it’s cool… I mean, I know I can but… I have Bellamy to talk to, and Mbege so I’m cool. It’s fine, I’m fine, there’s not much to talk about anyway but thanks… for the offer that is.”

Abbey nodded, laid her hand on his knee and squeezed almost affectionately before she mumbled an ‘okay’ and left the room.

The door remained open after she left and Murphy got up from his bed, guessing it was a sign that breakfast was being served. It was probably for the best if he managed to get to the canteen and force down some food or Mbege would make him pay for skipping.

-

A few days after Abbey’s visit when he and Mbege was having lunch Octavia settled down in front of them with a content grin.

“You should thank me.” She announced proudly before digging into her food and the two boys gave each other a questioning look before Mbege turned to the girl.

“Who are you talking to?”

Octavia pointed to Murphy with her fork, grinning around the food in her mouth. Murphy eyed her suspiciously at that.

“Why should I thank you?” he asked her with a raised eyebrow. The girl merely pointed her fork in another direction and Murphy followed it. It lead to Bellamy. His brows furrowed together and he turned back to Octavia.

“Why would I need to thank you for that?” he asked bemusedly.

“Look again.” The girl urged giddily.

Murphy sighed but did as she said and looked again. Really looked. He was just about to give up when he noticed it. No bandage.

Bellamy was displaying his name. Displaying Murphy’s name for everyone in the room. For everyone on the ark.

It did explain why there had been more people than usual which had stared at him and whispered amongst themselves when he got his food and walked over to Mbege. Most of them probably remembered his last breakdown.

He swallowed awkwardly, clearing his throat and looked down at his plate. He tried to keep the stupid grin off his face and thankfully managed.

“So? Why should I thank you for that?” he asked as nonchalantly as he could muster.

“Because I told him to man up and stop hiding like a coward.” Octavia all but sung before she continued eating.

Mbege had noticed by now as well and gently bumped his shoulder against Murphy’s with a small smile, even when he knew he could get in trouble by it. Murphy lost the second war against the grin and it spread across his face as he turned to Octavia.

“Well, thanks.” He offered, eyes lingering off to Bellamy once more as the grin grew.

-

 “Abbey stopped me on my way to work today.” Murphy looked up from his book as Bellamy’s voice pierced the content silence that had been resting around them.

He had lasted two more moths with playing cards until it had become so boring that he had finally caved and asked Bellamy to bring him books, anything written he could get his hands on would do.

Every visit Bellamy would bring a new book for Murphy as well as one for himself. They would sit beside each other while silently reading and once in a while one of them would comment on something and then they would talk for a bit and then go back to reading. It was peaceful and more effortless than the card games had been.

“Oh? What did she want?”

Bellamy was not looking at him, only staring down at the pages in his own book.

“She asked me to reconsider my decision. And I told her I couldn’t. I also told her why.”

Murphy tore his eyes from the older man and swallowed around the lump in his throat. He could feel that familiar feeling of anger and something more curse through him, streaming along every blood vessel and vein, making him warm and restless in the process. He desperately tried to shove it down but it was hard. He had not given in to it for a while now, not for almost three months and it demanded to be released. Somehow, he managed to control it. Managed to make it just barely simmer underneath his skin.

“So?” he asked. Snapped might have been a more accurate description and he internally winced at that. He did not need to start a fight. Not now.

But Bellamy did not seem to take it to heart.

“She told me that you also deserved to know about why I’m condemning both of us to death.” Bellamy paused, finally looking up from his book to look at Murphy. “And she was right, you deserve to know.”

Gently, Murphy let his book fall to the bed and he gave Bellamy his full attention. He would be lying if he said that he did not want to know.

Bellamy laid down his own book and leaned back against the wall, glancing at Murphy before turning his warm, brown gaze towards the door the opposite wall.

“You’ve met my sister… I’ve seen you sitting together at meals. You know why she’s in here. Normally, when there’s a child extra in a family that child gets pardoned as soon as it turns eighteen. I always figured it would be the same for Octavia if she was ever caught considering that she hadn’t done anything criminal or against the law. But, as you said once, your case is personal. So a day or so before the meeting where they tried your case, Kane came up to me and uhm… _explained_ to me that the chancellor had given me an… an ultimatum.”

Murphy could see how his soulmate clenched his fists at that, could see his jaw tense up.

“I could either ignore the meeting and let the council save you because of the bond we share, and by doing that also making sure that my sister gets floated in your stead-” Bellamy gave a grimace at that.

“ _Or_ I could go in there and tell the council that I was willing to get floated together with you, which in that case would guarantee that when Octavia turns eighteen she will be pardoned.”

Murphy’s hands were shaking in his lap and that anger was dangerously close to erupting. So close in fact that he rose from the bed and put as much distance between himself and Bellamy as he could while he tried to reel it in.

In the corner of his eye he saw Bellamy get up from the bed as well.

“At first it was easy to choose the latter alternative. I promised my mom to take care of my sister and… and you were a stranger, a stranger that had attacked me to boot and…”

Bellamy needed to shut up. Murphy just wanted him to stop talking. To stop coming closer.

“And I stand by my decision, I really do. But it is… it’s harder to bear now. I know you, you’re not just a stranger anymore and if there was a chance to sacrifice just me I’d take it.”

A hand landed on his shoulder and Murphy shut his eyes tightly, fighting with every fiber of his body to push down the feeling, the urge to act.

“Murphy? Murphy come on, say something?”

Bellamy was so close now. He was right in Murphy’s space. His control was slipping and in a matter of seconds he had raised a shaking hand, ready to strike just as a cross between a sob and a shriek left his throat.

The blow was parried and he was pulled in closer to Bellamy, with strong arms wrapping themselves around him. One around his waist and another around his shoulders locking him against his soulmate’s chest. His chin rested against the older man’s collarbone and instinctively Murphy buried his face against Bellamy’s throat while his clenched fists hit against Bellamy’s back, at anything he could reach, and sobs wrecked through his own body.

Grief.

That was the other feeling. The feeling he had pushed away for so long. It had morphed into the anger he had felt all those time. It was still tainted with anger but it was the main feeling tearing through him. It tore through his veins, tore through his muscles, his fingers, his tears. Everything radiated grief and sorrow as the fists stilled and all that was left was Murphy crying against Bellamy’s throat, clinging to him like his world depended on Bellamy keeping him upright. Which, in this moment, it did. For if Bellamy were to let him go, Murphy was sure he would collapse to the floor in a heap of sobs and sadness. He preferred the anger over this. He really did. This was torture. It was unpleasant. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see and couldn’t hear. For the first time in six years he let himself cry.

Bellamy held him, crushing him against the older man’s chest and Murphy could vaguely register hushing and soothing noises coming from him. His chest still ached horribly but the noises calmed him down after a while. Calmed him down until the tears dried up and the only thing remaining was Murphy shaking in Bellamy’s arms. The anger was gone. The grief lingered in his chest just under the surface, not completely gone but satisfied for now.

Murphy was _exhausted_.  He did not know how long he had been at it but it felt like _hours_.

They were soon moving. Or rather, Bellamy was moving and Murphy stumbled along with him. Back to the bed where Bellamy gently loosened Murphy’s grip on him and pushed him down on the bed.

Murphy avoided his gaze.

Now that he had calmed down and settled he felt embarrassed and humiliated. He had shown such weakness, such vulnerability.

John Murphy did not cry.

But he had. And in front of Bellamy as well.

Gentle hands guided him down on the bed, carefully shoved him closer the wall. He felt the mattress dip down as Bellamy laid down next to him. An arm was once again laid around him, pulling him closer to once more cradle him against Bellamy’s chest.

A part of him wanted to pull away but the other part, the one who won, wanted to nuzzle closer to the other man.

“Do you have to leave soon?” his voice was hoarse and he sounded almost pathetic as it reached his ears. Not that Bellamy seemed to care about that.

“We still have about an hour.” Bellamy’s voice was deep and warm, soothing him in a way he did not know he needed it to. “You should try to get some sleep.”

Murphy nodded, lifting his eyes to Bellamy’s face. Before he could stop himself he gently drew his marked knuckles against Bellamy’s marked cheekbone, shuddering at the same time Bellamy did.

“I would have chosen Octavia over me too.” He mumbled, forcing a small smile at the guard before he nuzzled his face back close against his throat and closed his eyes.

He felt Bellamy sigh but at least he had the decency to not comment on it and Murphy was allowed to drift off to sleep without any interruptions.

-

Murphy grimaced as he poked around his dinner. The thing on his plate could in his opinion hardly be called ‘food’. He forced a few bites of it down though, not wanting a sharp finger in the side from Mbege anytime soon. He still had a bruise from a few days ago when he had refused to eat breakfast. He could see the almost invisible smile from his friend when he glanced over, fork in his mouth. Mbege was _such a dork_. He also glanced across the table at the girl who now seemed to be a permanent resident at their table.

And today Octavia seemed awfully cheery, even for her. The two boys both merely kept quiet and waited for her to spill about _why_. She normally did. Although Murphy suspected it had something to do with today being Visitation Day. Most kids cheered up on Visitation Day. Except those who did not have any visitors, like Murphy or that little kid Charlotte.

“Have you guys heard about the council’s new initiative?” at last she spoke but still none of the two boys spoke, they merely waited. More was sure to follow even if they asked a follow up question or not.

“Apparently they’re supposed to gather a crew of a hundred people and send them down to earth.”

Mbege gave a snort and continued eating while shaking his head. Murphy could have sworn he heard his friend mutter ‘suicidal idiots’.

“I’m guessing there’s a purpose for this madness?” Murphy asked the girl, eyebrow raised and arms soon crossed over his chest. Octavia nodded excitedly.

“They’re supposed to see if it’s liveable! They’re gonna collect samples, of soil and water and other stuff. They’re gonna be down there for at least a month!” her smile was contagious and Murphy could feel a tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Or, they’re going to be down there for a few seconds and then they’ll die from radiation.”

Octavia huffed and stuck out her tongue at him.

“You’re such a joy killer Murphy.” She accused.

“Why are you so excited about it anyway?” Mbege rolled his eyes at her. “It’s not like they’ll let you go.”

“Well that’s just the thing, Clarke says that there’s a high chance that they’ll let some of the more well-behaved delinquents come along!”

“ _Maybe there is a beast… maybe it’s only us._ ” It had slipped so quickly from his lips that he had not managed to stop it. Beside him Mbege groaned and rubbed his temples with a ‘not again’ muttered under his breath and in front of him Octavia was giving him a quizzical look.

“It’s a quote, from Lord of the flies.” Mbege informed while he rolled his eyes, a huge grin stretching from ear to ear which showed off his perfect teeth. “One of this dork’s favourite books. Honestly, I thought he’d cave much sooner than this. He likes to speak in quotes. When he does speak that is.”

Octavia still looked at them both. “I don’t… I’ve never heard of- of Lord of the flies?”

Murphy and Mbege shared a look before Mbege shrugged his shoulders and continued eating, clearly disinterested in the subject. Murphy gave a sigh, obviously it was his turn to entertain the conversation.

“It’s a classic, you should read it. But first of all, who’s Clarke? And secondly, and I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you.” He managed a small and quite genuine small towards her.

“I’ll look into it… But first of all, thank you Murphy. That means a lot coming from my brother-in-law.” She was now positively beaming at him. “And secondly, Clarke is Clarke, you know, Clark Griffin?”

At that, because he had not moved at all at ‘brother-in-law’, Mbege’s head snapped up and he eyed her with narrowed eyes, still stuffing his face though.

“Clarke Griffin?” he asked between bites.

It was Octavia’s turn to roll her eyes now. She nodded and emptied her cup.

“Yeah, Clarke Griffin.”

“As in… the princess Clarke Griffin?”

“You know, she hates that nickname.”

Mbege was now grinning at her and Murphy groaned.

“Trust me, everyone who calls the princess ‘princess’ knows she loathes it. That’s kind of why she’s called that from the beginning.” Murphy informed, forcing down another bite of food despite the rush of nausea.

“Well, since she’s my friend and I’m your friend I’m asking you to not call her that. We might be criminals but we don’t have to be mean!”

Mbege laughed quietly and his grin turned to a smirk.

“You’re no criminal though girl. You were just born. You didn’t do anything to get here.”

Murphy could see on Octavia just how affronted she was by that statement and even he gave a small chuckle.

He actually kept on chuckling now and then throughout the ensuing debate between the two of them on what exactly counted as a criminal and whether Octavia could call herself one or not and, somehow, he managed to empty his plate along the way.

-

“Have you ever been in love?”

Murphy rolled his eyes at that one.

“Could you have asked a sappier question?”

“It’s my turn to ask and I stand by that question so just answer it, you chicken.”

They had been doing this for the last hour, witting with their backs to the wall on the bed. Both of them had a book in their hands but none of them were reading. At least Murphy was not, he was still on the same page as he had been when he opened it. Instead they were having a game of ’20 questions’, where 20 was more like ‘as many they could cram into their time together’.

So far Murphy had found out how Octavia got her name, Bellamy’s happiest memory, his worst and more. Likewise Bellamy had found out things such as Murphy’s first fight, his favorite guard – which was not Bellamy like one could think, the best day of his life and what animal from before the earth’s destruction Murphy would have liked as a pet.

He was not sure if he could answer the last question though. Or, maybe his hesitation on the answer suggested he could.

“No, no I’ve never… Not once. Kind of hard to fall in love when you’re stuck in a cell for most part of your day. Doesn’t really create the best conditions for romance as you can imagine.” He cleared his throat and gave a tiny smile as he glanced at Bellamy. “How about you? Ever been in love?”

Bellamy shrugged his shoulders, eyes crinkling beautifully in the corners when a wide grin grew on his lips.

“Never been in love.” Murphy was pushed unexpectedly to the side by a friendly shove of Bellamy’s shoulder. “I think I was waiting for you.” Murphy watched as a flash of a grimace fleeted over Bellamy’s features. “Not that I love you.” Another grimace. “Well, not yet. I think I could learn to though. You’re quite an acquired taste.” He joked as he once again bumped his shoulder against Murphy’s.

“Wow, how nice of you. No wonder you’re alone.” Murphy joked right back with a loop-sided grin of his own.

“Hey, being alone is a choice on my part. I’ll have you know I’m a highly sought after product on the market.” Bellamy flipped a page, that specific sound the pages would make when being turned never failed to relax Murphy. “I’ve dated my fair share of ladies. I just never loved them and, therefore, broke it off. Wait, scratch that. I’ve _loved_ some of them, just never been _in love_ with them.”

Murphy’s hands might just have gripped the book a little bit harder than normally. Why he did not know, he only knew that he felt a flare of something incredibly uncomfortable race up his spine only to leave him with less concentration for the words in the book than before.

“Really? Who?”

Bellamy tore his gaze from his own book and looked Murphy over.

“What? You mean who have I dated?”

Murphy shook his head slightly, keeping his eyes down on the pages without seeing a single letter written on there.

“Who have you loved?” he was not jealous. He was merely curious. But he did breath out a sigh of relief when Bellamy seemed to overlook the jealous qualities of the question.

“I believe it was my turn to ask a question now but fine, I’ll humor you this once. And it’s more like I’ve loved one of them. I like almost all of them but I have only ever loved one of them.” There was a pause and Murphy had trouble bringing air into his lungs. “I loved Clarke. No that’s not right, I _love_ Clarke. We dated briefly before realizing that we shouldn’t be more than friends. And we’re still very good friends. She actually made sure I got this job. I was a janitor before I dated her but she, and Abbey, saw potential in me and somehow convinced Kane to let me be a guard. Even with having a sister in prison.”

_Clarke Griffin_.

Bellamy certainly got a demotion with Murphy as his soulmate.

“Princess, huh? Well, shame you had to wait for me.” He joked, nudging Bellamy with his shoulder.

“Don’t do that.” Bellamy’s voice was a low rumble and then Murphy looked at him, slightly confused, he met a pair of mirthless eyes. He remembered Octavia’s words _. She hates that nickname_.

“Sorry, I won’t call her-“

“Not that.” Bellamy interrupted him, his voice laced with irritation. “Don’t sell yourself short. You always do that. Saying shit about yourself that isn’t true.” A warm hand was placed on his knee, a thumb rubbed gently over it as Bellamy continued. “You’re not a bad catch Murphy. There’s a lot of people worse I could’ve gotten attached to. It’s not a ‘shame’ I had to wait for you and your name across my face isn’t the worst thing to ever happen to me. Stop giving yourself such a hard time.”

Bellamy sighed, gently guiding his arm to rest across Murphy’s shoulder. It took a bit of coaxing but eventually Murphy’s defenses crumbled and he moved in closer to the guard, settling in next to his warmth with an abashed whispered ‘thanks’. He felt the curl of Bellamy’s lips against the top of his head and almost leaned in closer.

Time was running out. Today’s visit would soon be over. Both of them seemed content with spending the rest of it like that though, sitting close and listening to the peaceful breathing of the one another.

Their peace was broken by the beep and the door swinging open and Murphy let go of Bellamy rather reluctantly. The latter seemed to hesitate when he got to his feet though, looking the inmate over before his eyes stopped at Murphy’s lips.

Murphy’s heart suddenly raced in his chest as Bellamy leaned in over him and one of Murphy’s hands grasped the comforter, clenching it in his closing fist. He forgot how to breathe and yet he was breathing rapidly. But the anticipation was unnecessary as Bellamy placed a hand on his head.

He gently ruffled Murphy’s hair and soon after he had left the room, leaving Murphy slightly disappointed and yearning for something he could not quite put his finger on.

-

The lock gave a beep and the door swung open. Murphy glanced up from his book, eyebrows furrowed deeply on his face. He knew what day today was. Everyone knew what day today was. His door should not be open.

He abandoned his book on the bed, making his way over to the open door and stepping outside like all the others on his floor had. For the first time in his incarceration he followed the line of prisoners over to the visitation room. Awkwardly, since he had no idea what the protocol here was, he walked over to the table Byrnes pointed at for him and sat down, hands resting limply in his lap. His left foot bounced softly beneath the table as he anxiously waited for them to let the visitors inside.

Maybe it would be Bellamy. It was the only one he could think of. But it was a stupid thought, since Bellamy would have to sacrifice this month’s Visitation day with Octavia to see him. He would not do that, not when he saw Murphy every day anyway. Not one of his last two visitations. And if it was not Bellamy, Murphy had no clue who it could be.

The not knowing part had him on edge, his teeth were clenched together as he tried to stop his bouncing leg. His eyes flickered across the room, registered the other delinquents in the room.

Murphy knew the names of everyone on his floor. There had been enough time to memorize them all. He could see Dickson over by the corner table, probably waiting for his sister. Dax to his right and if Murphy remembered correctly he would be waiting for his mom. Then there were other faces such as Sterling, Harper, Myles and others sitting at their own tables in the neat little rows inside the room. Almost like how the benches in a classroom would be placed in one of those old high school movies Murphy had watched as a kid.

Finally, the buzzer on the door rang and the visitors were let inside. He watched as the seats opposite his fellow inmates were filled and grew more and more anxious as the chair opposite himself remained empty. The room was soon filled with low voices talking to each other as well as crying and laughter.

He felt silly sitting there all on his own. And humiliated. It was one thing to never have the door open on Visitation Day, another completely to sit here on his own while the rest of the prisoners were surrounded by their loved ones. It showed the world just how lonely he really was.

“I’m so sorry I’m late, the surgery took longer than mom expected.”

A girl took the seat in front of him, smiling at him as she did. Murphy inspected her in silence, darting his eyes over her face. Blonde hair, pretty eyes that crinkled in the corners when she smiled, a mouth that had a cute little cupid’s bow. He knew her face, at least partly. Abbey’s daughter. The one and only Clarke Griffin, the princess. A vague memory tickled at the back of his head, a flash of the same face but much younger from his time of freedom.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” he raised the corners of his mouth in a small, quick and polite smile. Arms crossed over his chest and he leaned back heavily in his chair, trying to look nonchalant rather than as confused and nervous as he was.

“Octavia has been talking a lot about you when I’ve come to see her. My mom has been talking a lot about you as well, she’s really interested in your case these days. And Bellamy has your name on his face, he’s less talkative but that’s normal. I guess I just wanted to see what all the fuzz was about.”

“How’s it going so far? Am I living up to my reputation?” he wondered, eyebrows slightly raised.

He could not read her, not at all. Her face, once the smile had slipped off, was awfully composed and unreadable. He did not like it.

“I don’t get it.” She uttered eventually, breaking the mutual silence that had emerged between them. “I don’t get why he’d sacrifice his life for your death. Why not just let you live so he could as well? I mean, how dangerous could you be?”

Murphy gave a quick look around, as of yet no one had heard about the awaited execution and he would not mind if it stayed like that either.

“Keep your voice down if you wanna discuss that. Bellamy and I are keeping it under wraps for now. And also, have you even read my file?” Murphy appraised her with an offended look. “I’m violent, it could be very dangerous to let me out in public and- don’t look at me like that!” The girl had the nerve to smirk at him.

“If there was a possibility for that Bellamy wouldn’t spend time with you the way he does now. He thinks that you´re worthy of it and he wouldn’t give it to some violent psychopath.” She sounded sure of it, and Murphy did believe her. His gut was however not comfortable with why.

She knew Bellamy, a lot better than Murphy himself did. The green-eyed monster swirled around in his belly when his mind touched upon the subject. It was illogical to be jealous, she had had time to know him.

“So why is he doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Getting floated. Has he told you?”

“Yes. But if he hasn’t told you it’s not my place to do it.”

She didn’t look too happy with that answer. Bellamy’s secretive approach to this whole situation was starting to piss Murphy off and he had half a mind to just blurt it out for her anyway but as he said, it was not his information to tell. However, she seemed to be quite bright. Maybe she could puzzle it together on her own.

Byrne’s voice floated through the air, informing everyone that visitation was over for this time. Murphy, along with the other inmates, rose from his chair and gave Clarke a cool smile.

“But if you’re that concerned with ‘why’ you should really ask you mom for my file. Plus, he’s your friend right? So you should know him enough to know what he would die for.”

With that he left her, followed the line of other delinquents and they were herded back into their cells and the next floor got a chance to see their loved ones.

-

“You told Clarke!”

Bellamy entered his cell, thundering like a storm cloud as he glared at Murphy.Murphy had not seen him this angry since he punched him in the face. His heart was as quick as a rabbit’s, hammering in his chest while he as nonchalantly laid down his book and got to his feet. His hands were up by his torso, hands splayed out like sun feathers in an attempt to calm his soulmate down.

“I didn’t tell her. When would I have done that?” He tried to keep his tone friendly and calm. He was fairly certain Bellamy would not pummel him but one could not be sure with the anger radiating from the guard.

Bellamy advanced on him and Murphy stepped a few steps to the side, just to not be trapped between Bellamy and the bed.

“I know she saw you last Visitation Day.” Bellamy growled, close enough for Murphy to feel his breathe against his face. “I have access to the records, you know as a _guard_ of this prison.”

“I didn’t tell her.” he repeated between clenched teeth and with defiant eyes.

“Then how come she knew and wanted to talk about it with me?”

“Why didn’t you just tell her from the beginning?”

“So you told her?”

“No I didn’t! She probably figured it out, she’s not stupid!” he shouted, placed his hands against Bellamy’s chest and pushed with all his might. Bellamy barely stumbled. Annoyance and a twinge of guilt roared through him. Bellamy was glaring at him, fists clenched at his sides.

“And to be honest, I don’t see why she couldn’t know. And I think it’s downright _cruel_ that your sister still doesn’t know that you’ll die in less than _two_ _months_!” he pushed once more with a glare of his own. “She’s a nice girl, she should get a chance to say goodbye!”

“Oh yeah? How about Mbege, huh? I can’t help but thinking that he doesn’t know either.” Murphy took a step back, guilt stabbing his abdomen like a knife.

“That’s not the same thing.”

“Oh please-“ Bellamy spit out with an exasperated grimace and a whine from the back of his throat. “Mbege is as much family to you as Octavia is to me, Murphy. He’s like your goddamn brother. So why doesn’t he know, huh?” Bellamy shoved him harshly, sending him flying backwards. Murphy’s back connected with the wall alongside a loud thump and the air left his lungs, tearing a painful gasp from him. Bellamy’s eyes widened in surprise and horror when it dawned on him what he had done.

“Shit, Murphy, hey, you okay?” he was by Murphy’s side in an instant, keeping him upright with a hand on his shoulder and another on his hip. “I’m so sorry, shit.” Murphy gasped for air. Every breath burned in his lungs and he started coughing. He was clutching Bellamy for support, hands clenched in his clothes.

It took a while but soon enough he was breathing normally again.

Bellamy’s hand tentatively cupped his cheek, bringing his eyes up to meet Bellamy’s dark and concerned ones.

“You okay?” he murmured softly.

Murphy wanted to push him away, wanted to scream at him and tell him to leave. He did not though, he was not even mad at Bellamy. Not really. He had probably owed him that shove. No the anger was directed at himself, because Bellamy was right. Mbege was family, the closest he would ever come to it at least, and he had not told him either. Probably for the same reason Bellamy had not told Octavia, _it was easier._ So instead of pushing him, hitting him and yelling at him Murphy only nodded and leaned forward to bury himself against his soulmate’s chest.

Bellamy let him, wrapping his arms around Murphy almost automatically.

“I’m really sorry.” He whispered against Murphy’s ear, hugging him to himself.

“Yeah, me too. I shouldn’t have-… I shouldn’t have told her, you obviously didn’t want her to know so… Sorry.”

A hand was buried in Murphy’s hair. The heaviness of it felt pleasant and comfortable. It suddenly struck him that it could not be as pleasant and comfortable for Bellamy since Shower day was tomorrow and his hair must be properly greasy by now.

He started to discreetly try and detangle himself from the embrace but Bellamy’s arm around his waist stood firm.

“The only way I’m letting you go is if we are to relocate to the bed and then resume this position, Murphy.” Bellamy warned. “It’s not just you who likes to cuddle, I have needs too you know.” He joked with a smile against the shell of Murphy’s ear and the inmate closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm down.

Once he had managed that he nodded softly, hands travelling gently up and down Bellamy’s sides without his permission. The older one did not seem to mind though.

“Alright, let’s move to the bed. Let’s… cuddle.” He managed with a sigh, slowly letting go of the guard.

“Hey, not that tone please. You like cuddling.” Bellamy’s voice was tender but amused as he too let go.

“Yeah, yeah I do.” He admitted with an embarrassed smile playing across his lips.

-

When the guard entered his room, only a couple of weeks before the due date, he was smiling from ear to ear. It made Murphy’s stomach knot in whirlwind of emotions.

“Guess what?” Bellamy asked cheerfully and Murphy put down his book with a shrug of his shoulders.

“You finally managed to tie your shoelaces and will no longer have to use Velcro?”

“Ha-ha, very funny but no. I talked to Abbey today when I met her on her way from Green’s cell.”

Bellamy slung himself down on the bed, ruffling Murphy’s hair with a small chuckle.

“What are you? Twelve?” Murphy muttered, dragged his hands through his shaggy and too long hair and tried to sort out the mess.

“Actually, I’m twenty-three and you know that. But that’s not what we talked about. We talked about the situation with you and I and I told her I still won’t change my decision but I will do what I can to help her win the council over in order for them to retract their sentence. She’s been looking into to this, reading all the law books and what not and she found a clause saying that ‘a decision of floating can be retracted if three out of four council members vote for it to be’.”

Bellamy slapped him lightly on the arm.

“Isn’t that great?”

The longer Murphy took to answer the more Bellamy’s smile died a little by little.

“I said, isn’t that great?” he repeated while gently grabbing Murphy’s hand, stroking across the etched knuckles.

“No. No it’s not great Bellamy.” He said with a sigh, pulling his hand away from Bellamy’s grip even if he would have loved to keep it there. “There’s not a chance in hell that any of those people will change their minds. Jaha won’t allow it.”

Murphy got to his feet, pacing around the now silent room. He was aware of Bellamy eyeing him, studying him and his every move. Most likely waiting for Murphy to get everything off his chest. It was eerie how well the guard had learnt to read him in only a few months’ time. Was he really that translucent?

“Which sucks. The system sucks. All of this _sucks_!” he screamed in frustration. “I’ve changed. I’m not the same as I was and- and okay so, maybe I might have lashed out a few times since I was put here but… I’ve changed…” the last few words were almost whispers. “I just- If they would just give me a second chance I could prove it. But they won’t give me one… And you know, for some reason it’s okay. But it’s not okay that they’re throwing you under the buss at the same time.”

He gave a small and joyless laughter, dragging his shaking hands through his hair. His lungs were burning, his throat was dry and it was getting harder to breathe with every passing second.

“I just… I don’t wanna feel you die.” It was pathetic and sappy but nonetheless true.

Murphy could feel Bellamy’s gaze boring down at the back of his head and the silence was unnerving. He did not dare to turn around and look at his soulmate so he merely stayed where he was, slumped together and staring at the wall like it was the most exciting thing he had ever seen.

“Murphy, get your ass back on the bed.” Bellamy’s voice was soft but made it clear that there was no room for arguments and, slightly hesitant, Murphy did as he was told and shuffled back to the bed where he sat down next to Bellamy.

The older man carefully slung an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. Murphy only struggled a little, grasping at the last of his dignity before he gave up and planted his cheek on Bellamy’s collarbone with a sigh. A hand soon travelled lazily through his hair, messing it up in a most loving way.

“I’m not a cat that needs petting.” He grumbled, no bite to it whatsoever as he leaned into the touch.

“No, but you’re a scared little boy who needs comforting.” Bellamy’s voice rumbled low above him. “Shut up Murphy, you know it’s true.” He added as soon as Murphy opened his mouth to retort the statement which placed a giant smudge on his honor and reputation.

The silence stretched out between them, claiming all the space in the room except the small space around the two of them. They way Bellamy’s chest raised up and down underneath him was very lulling and Murphy had little concentration to notice anything but those even breaths and that hand toying with his hair.

“Everyone needs comforting sometimes.” He continued after what seemed like forever, massaging Murphy’s scalp while he let his voice split the silence like a knife through skin. “And yeah, you’re right, the system does suck. But we can’t change it if we don’t try. Abbey’s helping us try and we can only hope she’s successful. And even if she isn’t, we’ll leave this life together and to me that… Isn’t as bad a thought as it once were. If I have to leave this life, why not with someone I care for?”

Murphy could feel the brief press of lips to his forehead and he swallowed around the lump in his throat. “So you’ll even hold my hand if I want you to?” he rasped out in what he hoped sounded like a joking tone. That little flare of ‘pathetic’ surged through his body though since he was more serious than he would ever reveal.

“That and what else I can do for you, Jonathan.”

Murphy cringed and tilted his head upwards, giving Bellamy a pleading look. “Please don’t ever call me that again. It’s John or Murphy, preferably Murphy.”

“So… I can’t call you sugar?” Bellamy grinned down at him pinching his cheek. Murphy swatted his hand away.

“Never.”

“Aw, come on Murphy. Don’t you wanna be my sugar?”

“I will punch you in the face Blake.”

“Aww, but I thought we had a moment there!”

“Yes, and you totally ruined it.”

They were both grinning at the exchange. It was unfair how good Bellamy looked when he grinned. Murphy had managed to get a jackpot in the soulmate lottery.

Six months was not enough. He wanted more time with this man, he _needed_ more time with him. Granted, he had a theory about the whole soulmate bond messing them both up, amplifying their feelings for one another. He did like it best when he could touch, smell or even just be close to Bellamy. He did not know when it had started but it had to be the bond. Six months was practically nothing.

His eyes fell once more on Bellamy’s grin, on his lips and he swallowed at the surge of _want_.

“Murphy? Murphy hello?”

“ _Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires_.” Murphy barely whispered it and as soon as it was uttered he prayed to whatever heaven existed that Bellamy had not heard it. The amused smile that curled along Bellamy’s lips revealed his prayer fruitless.

“Pray tell, what are those desires Murphy?”

Murphy cleared his throat awkwardly, detangling himself from his soulmate and stood up.

“How about, I tell you one of my desires and you tell me one of yours?” Bellamy suggested, with that smile still lingering on his face.

He pondered it for a little while, letting it stew a little before he gave a tiny nod and turned around to face Bellamy.

“Alright, well, right now… my _black and deep desire_ would be to spend the night, to sleep next to you and actually wake up with you in my arms.” Bellamy scratched his neck with a sheepish smile. “Now tell me one of yours so you can’t hold that mushy crap against me.”

Murphy’s eyes locked on his name across Bellamy’s cheek, only barely visible against his tan skin and freckles. Absently he rubbed his knuckles, feeling the gentle bumps of the letters. He needed to voice it now or he would never do it.

“A kiss.” It came out as a whisper yet it made his throat as dry as if he had been screaming for hours. “Or- or uhm… a lot of kisses. And what you said too…” his courage was leaving him fast.

Bellamy’s sheepish smile turned warmer, softer, and he rose to his own feet. The gap between them was closed effortlessly and Murphy soon felt the heat of Bellamy’s hands against his bare skin, one on his neck and the other on his cheek, cupping it and tilting it up ever so slightly. The small height difference had never been more obvious between them.

“We could start with a kiss though, and then go ahead with more kisses.” A thumb stroked across his cheekbone. “What I said might be more difficult to arrange but I can give you a kiss.”

And with that Bellamy tentatively closed the small gap between them, pressing his lips against Murphy’s in a tender motion. It was brief, barely little more than a peck but it was followed shortly by more of its sort and Murphy gingerly grasped fistfuls of Bellamy’s shirt in his hands to steady himself when his knees felt like they would buckle.

The soulmate bond had to be at least partly to blame.

His legs moved in tandem with Bellamy’s as the older man backed until he sat down on the edge of the bed, gently guiding Murphy down along with him. He straddled his soulmate’s lap, moving his arm up around Bellamy’s neck. He felt hands upon his hips, Bellamy’s strong and warm hips which pulled him flush against the other’s chest.

The kisses were beginning to deepen, with Murphy’s tongue shyly meeting Bellamy’s, when the door beeped and swung open, signaling the end of their time together for the day.

Bellamy groaned against Murphy’s lips, gripping him tighter for a few moments before he gently pushed Murphy back a little.

“I’m sorry, I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow though, alright?”

Murphy nodded, breathing deeply and desperately trying dampen the signs of his arousal as he awkwardly left Bellamy’s lap. He pulled a hand through his hair and cleared his throat with a nod.

“Yeah, yeah I’ll… tomorrow… yeah.”

Bellamy eyed him with amusement written all over his face. When he passed Murphy he slipped in a small peck on the lips, whispering a ‘goodbye’ before disappearing out. The door closed almost soundlessly after his departure and Murphy sagged down on his bed with a groan.

Since his head was not going to help him deflate his problem, seeing as how it kept replaying the evening’s make-out session over and over again, he had no choice but to, literally, take matters into his own hands.

Satisfied and drained, he burrowed himself down under the covers and fell asleep.

-

He fidgeted nervously while he waited. He needed to do this. Needed to at least try.

His door opened and Kane stepped in, stoic and cold as always while he took a quick scan of Murphy.

“Miller said you requested to talk to me mister Murphy?” he asked, and eyebrow raised up high.

Murphy nodded and rubbed the back of his neck while he cleared his throat.

“It is about my sentence and-“

“The sentence is already delivered and there is less than two weeks left until it is carried out.” Kane commented with annoyance. Murphy should have punched him in the face instead.

“Yes. I know. But I also know that you quite like the other person this punishment concerns.” His voice was ice as he glared at the man. “And I want you to propose something to the only one whose mind is worth changing at the moment.”

Kane surveyed him for a few moments before he nodded, mouth pinched.

“And what is that?”

Murphy took a deep breath and tried to get rid of the anger before he continued. He needed Kane to believe it to be a good idea to even have a chance at affecting Jaha.

“I want you to propose that… I will spend the rest of my life inside this cell, or any other, in the exchange that Bellamy and Octavia lives. There is no family or relative of mine to complain about this, I will be locked up and not cause any harm and have no contact with anyone but the guards and you get to keep a promising guard and you won’t have two female Griffins loathing you for the rest of your life.”

Kane lifted his eyebrow once more and there was a small malignant smile curving the left side of his mouth.

“You want to rot in a cell until you die of old age in exchange for two people. My, I never thought you to be so unselfish Murphy.”

“Think what you will, that is what I’m proposing.” He growled out, cheeks hot and eyes hard.

There was silence while Kane studied him closely, scrutinizing everything before he gave a quick nod and moved towards the door.

“I’ll let him know.”

Murphy watched him go, a small sense of relief growing inside his chest.

-

“Is the book not good? I wasn’t sure if you’d like it but it see-“

“You know it’s not about the book.”

Bellamy’s dark eyes were glued to him while Murphy kept his own gaze down at the pages of the book Murphy had brought him. _Pride & Prejudice_, a birthday gift from Bellamy along with a small stick of chocolate. It was more than he had gotten for his birthday in a long time. And the book was even a hardcover, without any duct tape. He was not reading it at all though. No, his mind was elsewhere. It was with Mbege, wondering how his friend would react to not seeing Murphy at breakfast tomorrow. It was with Octavia, hoping she would be strong enough to take the news of their deaths. It was in the room with him and Bellamy, fantasizing about how their lives could have been if not for Jaha’s determination to see him dead, if Murphy had been pardoned.

He merely glanced in Bellamy’s direction when he heard the small thud from a book closing and felt the bed dip ever so little when it was put down. Bellamy grabbed the book in Murphy’s own grasp and he was just about to tell him off when his soulmate began to speak.

“ _Let us drop war now, you and I, and give ourselves to pleasure in our bed. My soul was never so possessed by_ \- shit, wait, I- crap I forgot the rest.” Bellamy grimaced with a smile “but still, I asked Kane and I was allowed to stay the night so come on… give me the book and then we’ll spend the rest of night making out and feeling each other up. How does that sound?”

He pried the book away from him without any resistance. Murphy was too busy staring at him to put up a fight.

“You just quoted the Iliad.” He exclaimed, his voice betraying the shock and amusement he felt. Bellamy shrugged, placing his hands on Murphy’s hip and leg before guiding him onto his lap. Murphy did not put up any resistance to this either.

“So what? You thought you were the only smart one out of the two of us?”

“Yes.”

 “Stop grinning you insolent little shit. I might just ravage you if you don’t.” Bellamy chuckled, ruffling his hair. Murphy swatted his hand away, letting his grin grow as he ground down at Bellamy’s crotch. His worries had magically disappeared and had been replaced with that _need_ that only Bellamy could invoke in him.

“Well, you are _kinda_ sexy when you quote Homer so…” he dipped in for a quick kiss, ending it with a small nibble of Bellamy’s bottom lip. Just to tease him a little bit. “I might just let you.” He offered.

“That was all I needed to get you hot and bothered? Quoting classical literature?” Bellamy mused, clearly entertained. He grabbed Murphy’s hand and viewed it fondly, dragging a thumb over it and making Murphy shiver. Bellamy studied him curiously before bringing the hand up to his mouth, pressing his lips against the inscription. A flash of warmth swept through his body and the need grew within him.

“Just stop talking and start kissing me, _officer_.” He almost growled, grabbing Bellamy by the neck with his free hand. Bellamy wrapped one arm around his waist and pressed them together tightly. Murphy’s hand was dropped in favor of burying the now unoccupied hand in Murphy’s hair.

“As you wish, inmate.” He rumbled, capturing his lips in a lustful kiss.

The kissing grew more daring as time went by, as did hands. Somewhere during the stroking, groping and exploring they both soon found themselves shirtless and halfway out or their pants. The air around them were heavy with lust and longing and need.

“We won’t do anything you don’t want to, Murphy.” Bellamy’s lips mumbled against Murphy’s own and he gave a snort, his hand venturing inside Bellamy’s briefs rather audaciously. This was to be Murphy’s last night in this life. Maybe he was greedy but he wanted, needed, everything his soulmate could offer him in these last moments. This, indeed, included.

“I’m not dying a virgin so you better fuck me.” He stated firmly as his hand hesitantly closed around Bellamy’s throbbing member, the action eliciting an almost carnal cry from the man and Murphy was rewarded with a hand tugging at his waistband. Soon thereafter they were both naked, completely exposed to one another, while hands grew even more daring. Especially Bellamy’s.

Murphy hissed in surprise as he felt the cold and gooey substance and looked up at Bellamy, towering over him, with astonishment. The older man held up a small vial with a cheeky grin while shrugging his shoulders and mumbling a small ‘Clarke’ in explanation. Murphy was both touched, abashed and horrified at the same time but once Bellamy started to prepare him everything melted away and was conquered by other feelings. New feelings. Feelings he might have imagined in a wet dream or two. Dreams that might have included Bellamy. Dreams that were now happening.

Wet lips nipped at the skin of his throat. Hands played with his nipples to distract him, and oh how they distracted him, while Bellamy, as gently as he could, sunk deep inside him. Murphy writhed beneath him, there was some discomfort and not even Bellamy’s talented hands could make him ignore that bit. But patience is a virtue and Bellamy seemed to own a lot of it. He waited for Murphy to adjust, waited for him to be ready while panting against his neck and kissing it tenderly.

“Ready.” Murphy whispered at last, his body having forgotten the discomfort and on the hunt for whatever would quench the _need_ that grew in the pit of his stomach with every hot and moist breath he felt against his skin. And Bellamy started to move. He moved gently at first and asked often enough if Murphy was alright. And then the pace quickened gradually, quickening and quickening, finally culminating in a steady thrusting which flooded them both with pleasurable waves again and again. Sounds, lust filled and deep, escaped Murphy’s lips over and over. Communicating for him what his mind could not.

An exceptionally hoarse cry rang through the air as Bellamy grasped his hand, rasping his thumb over Murphy’s knuckles. The cry was enough to prompt him to do it again, and then again and then again. Each time he did it the hoarse cry would sound, accompanied by sparks of pleasure and desire shooting through him. He was close, he was so close. He wanted Bellamy to be as close as he was, wanted them to cum together in a final act of bonding.

He lifted his hand, having had to unclench it from the tightly grasped sheets, and cupped Bellamy’s cheek. Gently, through the mist of his own lust, he stroked this thumb over the name and reveled in the moan which left his soulmate’s throat. He repeated the touch, enjoying every sound that left Bellamy, enjoyed how the small contact was enough to make Bellamy’s otherwise steady pace waver. He was so terribly close.

“Bellamy.” He whined desperately.

“I know. Me too.”

The hand holding his managed to close both their hands around Murphy’s own cock, Bellamy’s fingers covered his like a blanket, guiding Murphy’s hand up and down while still managing to provide friction for the name across the knuckles.

It was all he could take and soon he erupted, body quaking underneath Bellamy as he lifted his head just enough to capture his soulmate’s lips with his. He moaned into that mouth, riding out the waves of his climax as he felt Bellamy land a final thrust before enjoying a climax of his own.

-

Bellamy’s arm around him felt nice. As nice as the sensation of the man’s other hand gently stroking over his skin. He could feel Bellamy’s heart beating beneath his hand, his head would lift with every breath he took. It was nice. It was more than nice. It was simply perfect.

It was also soon to be over.

The thought must have made him look miserable because the hand previously leaving goosebumps now gently pried his face upwards so his eyes could meet Bellamy’s worried ones. The older man gave him a warm smile.

“Cheer up.” He mumbled right before bending down, capturing Murphy’s lips in a tender kiss. It filled Murphy with warmth and he could not help but smile, moving his hand from Bellamy’s heart to cup his cheek.

“ _You have witchcraft in your lips_.” He murmured against the other’s lips. Bellamy’s brows drew together as he planted a kiss on Murphy’s forehead.

“What?” he asked, confusion coloring his voice. It tore an amused little laugh from the prisoner, who settled down with his cheek to the guard’s chest and his hand resting over his heart once more.

“Shakespeare. It’s from- you know what? Never mind. Forget I said it and get back to cuddling me. You idiot.”

“Maybe I would if you’d ask me nicely.” Bellamy mocked with a grin even as he continued tracing his fingertips over Murphy’s skin, making the younger one sigh in contentment.

If this was how his life was to end, Murphy figured it was not too bad. He was allowed to spend his last moments of life with his so called soulmate.

He had just had sex. Mind-blowingly good sex to boot.

He would not have to die alone.

There was definitely worse ways to go.

_You might not have to die, Abbey might still make it. Kane might have changed Jaha’s mind._

He pushed the thought away. There was just no chance of that happening.

_Bellamy might still change his mind_.

He swallowed around the lump that started to grow in his throat. He knew that Bellamy would not change his mind. Not when he had a chance to save his sister. Not even for Murphy. He was okay with that. Really. He was. He had no choice but to be and, to be honest, he could see why Bellamy was doing this. The girl did deserve a chance at life. She deserved it more than Murphy did at least.

“Hey, I told you to cheer up.” Bellamy’s breath blew his hair, making it tickle his ear and once more Murphy smiled.

“Sorry Officer Blake, I’m not good with taking orders.”

Bellamy’s eyes blackened in an instance and the smirk turned almost voracious, the hand that previously stroked his skin with ghostly touches had now turned firmer and was pleasantly travelling across Murphy’s skin.

“Well, we’ve got a few hours to correct that, _inmate_.”

Murphy shuddered as a grin spread across his lips and he straddled Bellamy’s lap in seconds, kissing him greedily.

All of this would be over soon, but until then he would make the most of it.

-

They were both dressed and ready when the door gave a little beep and opened for Kane, who stepped in without pause. He had his arms behind his back and looked them both over with an air of impatience around him. He gestured for them both to follow him and left just as quickly as he had entered.

Murphy’s hands would not stop shaking as he fell behind Bellamy when they both left the cell. He took a quick look back at his home for the last six years and felt an ache settle inside his chest. Silently he said goodbye, trailing after Bellamy and Kane.

No guards accompanied them on their journey to the airlock. It was both a compliment and an insult in Murphy’s head but he said nothing about it. It showed both trust and superiority. And it was not him Kane trusted, it was Bellamy. He gritted his teeth and clenched his shaking fists, pushed them deep down his pockets.

There were two guards by the airlock though, Miller and Byrnes. Neither Octavia nor Mbege were present. And no Abbey. Clarke was there though.

Murphy watched as they hugged, Clarke crying and Bellamy comforting her. It was not right. Bellamy did not deserve this. This was his fault.

The thought had only just swept through his head when the two friends parted and Bellamy took a place by his side, gently grasping his hand as they faced Kane.

The man stood with his arms clasped behind his back in front of the airlock and surveyed them, much like he had done when he had fetched them. Did he have to drag this out?

“We have decided that the most humane thing to do is float you at the same time.” His voice was grave and serious, lacking any warmth or empathy. Good old reliable Kane. “I would like to ask you both to take of your shoes, please.”

Both did as asked and Murphy stared at his worn boots. Poor bastard who would receive them.

Once more he stood there, staring at them both before he finally gave a nod to Byrnes. Murphy winced at the creaking from the inner doors when they opened. It was not merely his hand that shook now.

He did not want Bellamy to notice though so he moved quickly inside the airlock, his head held high while he walked.

In front of him he could see the vastness of space and he wondered what would get him first, oxygen loss or the temperature. A chill went through his body and he turned around, kept his eyes from Bellamy who had taken a place next to him and they were both now facing the people attending their funeral.

The doors closed and Murphy felt almost claustrophobic. Kane began to talk at the other side but it was muted where the two of them stood. The head guard was definitely dragging it out.

His heart hammered in his chest, thundered and thumped as he fought to keep his breathing under control.

_Don’t faint. Don’t faint. Don’t faint._

Skin against skin met when Bellamy caught his hand once more. He laced their fingers together and stroked his mark with this thumb. Calm washed over him, chased away the panic and the slowed down his beating heart. Murphy squeezed his soulmate’s hand as Kane droned on behind the glass.

“He’s looking at the door.” Bellamy’s voice was just a whisper but Murphy heard it clearer than any shout.

He turned his head to Bellamy, giving him a tired look.

“Sure he his.”

Bellamy met his gaze, grinning slightly.

“He is.”

Murphy frowned, turning his eyes toward Kane once more and kept them there. Bellamy was right. While he talked, Kane did glance at the door from time to time.

Hope flared through him, like a flushing ember it sparked and he squeezed Bellamy’s hand again.

“He’s looking at the door.” He whispered, his voice excited and scared at the same time. Bellamy nodded and let go of his hand, slipped his arm around Murphy’s waist instead with a ‘told you’ against the shell of his ear. Murphy smiled.

But the smile soon vanished. He saw Kane glance back at the door one final time, his face caught in a frown as he finished his speech. Everyone knew he could not drag it out any longer.

Murphy met the eyes of the man for a brief second, saw the look of regret in them before he gave the order to Byrnes.

He felt cold inside, even as Bellamy pressed him close against him. Tears ran down his cheeks and dripped down on the dirty metal floor beneath their feet. He noticed that even Byrnes tried to drag it out but he knew it would do no good now. Her finger hovered over the button and in the exact moment she pressed down, the door opened.

“No!”

The delay in the outer doors gave Murphy half a second to recognize Abbey’s horrified face as she stared at them before the two men were hurled out in space.

Dying was not what he had expected.

It did not hurt, it was not uncomfortable. He did not feel Bellamy die as he had feared. He did not feel anything at all.

In one moment he lived, the next he merely did not.

And their two empty bodies floated together further and further away from the ship, into the vastness of space.


	2. Alternate ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the same story but with the alternate ending people asked for! I hope you like it! Oh and there will be a sequel coming shortly (I hope) and it will be a sequel based on the ending of this version.   
> Hope you enjoy it!

There was a new a guard today. Murphy could hear the man’s voice as he banged on Dickson’s cell, telling him to ‘shut the hell up’. Which, obviously, wouldn’t help. The guy was in prison, they could not float him for another couple of months so why the hell would he shut up? Dickson liked to sing until his lungs burst when he was hungry and seeing how it was soon time for lunch of course he would make a lot of noise.Apparently no one had informed this new guard of that.

Just like Dickson, Murphy himself quite liked lunch. Breakfast and dinner too. Those three times a day were the only time he got to leave the cold and grey box he called home, four if you counted shower time but he did not. He would sit down with his tray next to Mbege and they would eat in silence, scanning the room, discussing the officers, checking in the fresh meat and so on. Granted, the food they were served was horrible and there was no touching allowed between inmates but at least he got to look at something else besides the walls of his cell or the occasional glance at an officer walking by his door.

He knew though, that today’s lunch was not going to be pleasant. Today was just not a good day. There was a new guard and Murphy was itching all over, something crawling underneath his skin trying to force its way out. It had been a while now, since he last had that feeling. That feeling had left him with a two week suspension from the dining hall, forcing him to eat his meals alone in his cell. But it had been worth it too. The feeling had disappeared, as it always did. It had stayed gone until now. Until today.

Today was just not going to be a good day.

-

The doors opened automatically, swinging to the side with an electrical beep and Murphy got to his feet. He followed the stream of people in a neat row towards the cafeteria. Every inmate kept their distance to the one in front of them. Murphy found it ridiculous. The rule had been implemented after an inmate had touched another and the marks had appeared on both their skins. Soulmates. The Ark only contained about four hundred people so the odds that one would find someone to share marks with were formidably low. But killing one, sorry, floating one, would mean killing the other bearer of the mark. They were linked somehow and if one stopped breathing so would the other and since there was a chance that one of them might be pardoned and the government didn’t want to be put on trial for murder both were pardoned when they came of age. Since then the rule of no touching had been implemented, with guards wearing full body gear and gloves at all times in case they had to intervene. It was all bullshit if you asked Murphy. Which, no one ever did. But it was. The odds of it happening again were so low that it was laughable.

He took his tray, heading over to his and Mbege’s table where the other one had already taken a seat. While slipping down next to his friend they both shared a curt nod before Mbege continued eating and Murphy started. Or he would have if his eyes had not landed on the only unfamiliar face in the room. The new guard.

The man was handsome, Murphy could admit that, and his voice had been pleasant. Unfortunately, he would have to smash up that pretty face since most of the guards could read him by now. They all seemed to know when the feeling was back. He did not know what his tell was but he knew that if they had not informed this new guy about Dickson then they probably had not informed him about Murphy.

One glance around the room confirmed that the new guy was the one closest to him. If Murphy was to start making a fuzz, he would have to come over.

“John. No.” apparently the guards were not the only ones able to read him since Mbege gave him a distressed look and a small groan at the smirk Murphy directed his way.

“Just keep your head down, like always. You’ll be fine” he mumbled to his friend before getting to his feet. He grabbed his tray and with threw it with a roar against the wall closest to the line for the food. The new guard was on his way in an instance.

“What the fuck inmate, sit down. Hands on your head. Now!”

Murphy glared at him, anger and something else blazing from his eyes. The fact that this guy had nothing to do with that anger was not relevant. At least not for Murphy. He just needed to act on it, get it out of his system so he could reboot and live through another couple of weeks in this hell.

“I said now inmate!” the guard yelled and Murphy could see how the rest of the cafeteria either looked at him or glared down in their food. No one moved but the guard, the rest of them coming towards the ruckus. It was now or never.

With a smirk Murphy placed his hands almost mockingly behind his head while waiting for the guard to come closer. As soon as he was close enough, Murphy drew back one of his hands and swung it against the guard’s face. It connected with the man’s cheekbone with a sickening sound yet he barely flinched. Murphy’s smirk disappeared the instance he saw the guard bring back his own hand and he had little to now time to see it coming towards him before everything went dark.

-

“I believe it was highly unnecessary to use such force Officer Blake.”

There was a flashlight beaming into his eyes and he groaned, trying desperately to swat it away.

“I used to force I deemed necessary doctor Griffin. The inmate was violent.”

The inmate was in the damn room and Murphy wished they would stop talking above his head. He was soon going to be fully conscious and it was not very nice to talk about him like he was not there.

“Mister Murphy is known for these outbursts and is usually subdued without having to be beaten. Kane, for heaven’s sake, don’t you inform your guards of the more memorable of the delinquents?”

“The inmate has behaved himself quite well for a while now, I didn’t think it necessary on Officer Blake’s first day. It won’t be repeated, Abbey. You have my word.”

Murphy groaned again, blinking his eyes open and meeting the view of Councilman Kane, doctor Griffin and the new guard. The doctor was crouching next to him, smiling at him when she noticed he had come to. The other two stood slightly behind her, Kane with his arms crossed over his chest and the guard with his hands behind his back. The first one eyed him with irritation, the latter with almost relief.

“Hello John, how are you feeling?” Abbey Griffins voice was in its own way very soothing, very friendly despite the fact that Murphy had put himself in this position. He had always liked Abbey. She was nice.

“Good.” He answered tersely, giving her a little but not very forced smile that made his cheek hurt. Bastard could really throw a punch. But she kept looking at him, obviously not satisfied with the answer and he gave a sigh.

“It came back,” he admitted quietly with his eyes casted down at the floor. “I didn’t mean to- well I did but- sorry.” He mumbled, twiddling his fingers at the hem of his shirt. Staring at them when his knuckles started to burn slightly. Abbey seemed to notice his eyes widening and when he gave a painful groan she grabbed his hand.

No. No way.

Murphy watched as the etchings appeared on his knuckles, as if carved with a knife. It hurt. He bit back another groan, trapping his lower lip between his teeth and clamping down hard. He heard the guard behind Abbey gasp and take a few steps back. Heard Kane bark out a worried ‘Blake’. It was over soon enough and all Murphy could do was to stare at his hand.

The letters that now decorated it were an angry red, glaringly so against the paleness of his skin. His heart pounded against his chest as soon as he laid eyes on them. It was not a word. He _knew_ it was a name. _Bellamy._ What kind of name was that?

With that thought he looked up, gaping up at the guard who met his look of confused fear with one of his own. Across his cheekbone, across _Bellamy’s_ cheekbone, the name _‘Jonathan’_ were etched. Less angry red against the other’s tan and thus a little less visible but still there nonetheless.

Murphy looked on as one of Bellamy’s hands shot up to his face, letting the fingers graze over the name. The look of confused fear turned into an anger Murphy was not quite sure he had seen before as he with no doubt felt the roughness of the etchings. His look of anger rivaled that of Commander Shumway’s the first time Murphy had acted out. It was really a sight to behold.

Abbey quickly took control as she got to her feet, ushering both Kane and Bellamy towards the door while smiling just as gently as before at Murphy. He could see the uncertainty she tried to hide in her eyes though.

“We’ll be right back John, don’t worry. I’ll soon be back. Have some water and then we’ll talk later.”

He watched the door close behind them. No fucking way. His hands were shaking and he forced his gaping mouth shut. The odds were laughably low. He carded his hands through his hair, letting the soft strands glide through his fingers while he swallowed harshly. His throat was bone dry.

Abbey had mentioned water. He needed water. Glancing to the side he was a pitcher of water by his nightstand along with a glass. It must have been Abbey who brought it, the guards knew better than to leave such things in there with him.

_That had been one time though_.

Getting to his feet, he staggered over to the pitcher. He did not care to fill the glass, merely drank from the pitcher itself in heavy chugs. Abbey would back soon. They would talk. This was just surely a weird misunderstanding. They would talk. It would be fine.

He placed the pitcher down on the table again, settling himself on the edge of the bed. There was just no way he of all people had a _soulmate_. It had to be a mistake. A mistake that would be solved as soon as Abbey came back.

-

Three days. It had been _three days_. Neither Abbey or Kane or even Bellamy had returned in three days. The pitcher had been collected when he fell asleep the first night and since then his meals had come on regular times through his door. They had even used the small shutter on the door to bring it in. They had not used that method since the third time Murphy attacked a guard. It was ridiculous. It was like he had leprosy or something. Like he was something worth avoiding. It stung.

The redness on his knuckles had toned down though, a dark pink by now. When it was healed it was apparently supposed to look like a scar. Gently he grazed over it, and if anyone ever mentioned it he would deny having shuddered while doing so.

Still, Bellamy was a fucking weird name. Bellamy Blake. At least _Bellamy_ adorned his hand which meant he could hide it, his _soulmate_ did not have the same luck. He could understand why the man had not been back. When one get punched by a prisoner on one’s first day of work across the face and whoops the person turns out to be one’s soulmate and one have to bear the person’s name on one’s cheek for the rest of one’s life it is totally understandable that one would avoid said soulmate. He would have been pretty pissed about a name across his face for the world to see too.

This whole soulmate business should however mean that he would be pardoned. He would be lying if he said he had not thought about that. There had been plenty of time to think about it already. He was just not sure whether the thought of being pardoned filled him with relief or dread. He had been in here for years now, to get out again would be wonderful. He was not sure he would fit in with the rest of the Arkers though. And he had also reconciled with the thought of dying a long time ago now. Assault on a councilman, or any high ranked member of the Ark, did normally result in floating even when one strand trial for it but with Bellamy in the picture he would be more or less immune to the Ark’s legal system. He would be slapped on his wrists if he overstepped boundaries but unless Bellamy joined him on a crime spree, which Murphy deemed highly unlikely, they could not float him.

He sighed, vaguely listening to Dickson’s false pitch. He had been singing for about half an hour now so lunch had to be approaching. His stomach rumbled and he picked up the book he had started on yesterday to get his mind off it.

But he was right and soon he heard the doors open with the electrical beep, all but his. He was however surprised when instead of the shutter opening, the whole door opened and he sat up immediately with a frown and pulled his knees to his chest. He expected Byrne or Miller to be delivering it but instead he was met by the sight of one Bellamy Blake carrying his tray of food. And he didn’t seem too pleased about it either. Murphy’s eyes fell on the big band aid stuck across the man’s cheekbone, covering Murphy’s name up. Rude. His name was at least common and quite nice, Bellamy did not have to cover it up like that.

The tray was placed on the bed beside him, with Bellamy avoiding touching him and looking at him before making his way towards the door. To say that it was annoying as hell was a severe understatement.

“Hey!” he growled, planting his feet on the floor. At least the man stopped. “It’s been three days. Where the fuck is Abbey? Or hell, even _Kane._ Three days of this fucking bullshit isolation and then you come in with food like it’s nothing and you don’t even have the _decency_ to look me in the eyes or explain anything?” He glared at the guard’s back, hands clasping the bedframe angrily. For a little while it looked like the man was just going to walk away and then he looked at Murphy over his shoulder. There was no anger, merely a detachment that made all the appetite Murphy might have had disappear into the farthest corner of the Ark.

“I don’t need to explain anything to an inmate. Councilman Kane is a busy man and so is doctor Griffin. When you’re done eating, place the tray by the door, knock two times before stepping back to the bed and I will collect it.” And with that he left, closing the door behind him.

What a _nice_ soulmate he had gotten himself.

-

Two more days and then Kane came. Right after dinner as soon as Bellamy had taken his tray Marcus Kane entered with a serious look on his face. He had his arms clasped behind him and his back as straight and stiff as a board.

“What can I do for you councilman?” Murphy gave him a cold little smile, smelling bad news already. Kane eyed him up and down before clearing his throat.

“The council tried your case,” Murphy’s eyebrow drew together and he got to his feet.

“I won’t be eighteen for another six months.” He blurted out, feeling cold all of a sudden. Kane merely gave him a look full of annoyance.

“We know, but considering the special circumstances around your case which have just been brought to light-“ there was a slight raise of one of the corners of Kane’s mouth in a sneer “the council decided to push it forward.” Once again the man cleared his throat, arms crossing over his chest. He did not look away though, met Murphy’s gaze straight ahead and Murphy did appreciate that on some level. “Due to the nature of your crime which put you in here and the violent outbursts you’ve been prone to do, we on the council believe you to be a danger to the citizens of the Ark. It is our decision that you shall be floated when reaching the age of eighteen.” Murphy stared at him, feeling a bubbling sensation of nausea cursing through his body. He tried to swallow down the lump forming in his throat. The council his ass. He knew who had urged for this decision.

“What about Bellamy? If I die, so will he.” He tried almost meekly, having trouble finding his voice. Kane had moved his gaze to the ceiling now but Murphy could still see the resentment in his eyes.

“Yes, well, Officer Blake was present at the meeting and… And he generously offered, in order to make our decision easier, to be floated alongside you.” There went his pardon. What a dick he had managed to become attached to. A dick with a hero complex it would seem. He gave a laugh, a slightly manic and short laugh.

“You’re gonna let him do that?” Marcus Kane lifted his gaze, once more meeting Murphy’s eyes. Kane might be jerk more often than not but this had to be against even his morals to allow.

“If it means that we are able to get rid of you then yes.” Murphy felt his throat constrict and he gave a curt nod. With ‘we’ he meant the chancellor.

“Was that all, councilman?” he managed, hands clenched at his side while he tried to keep his composure. Kane gave a nod before turning his back on Murphy and leaving the room. That whole thing of having ‘reconciled with the thought of death’ seemed really overrated right now.

-

There was a frown on Bellamy’s face when he collected next day’s dinner tray. Murphy ignored it, glaring into the wall at the opposite side of the room with his chin propped up on his knees. He had his back to the headboard and could see the guard from the corner of his eye.

“You haven’t eaten today, inmate.” The guard stated, fixing that frown on Murphy. That stupid band aid was still covering the name.

“Fuck off.” He hissed and turned his back on the man. So what if he did not have an appetite? Who would in his position?

“You sure you don’t want anything from this tray?” the man asked with annoyance lacing his words.

“Fuck off.” He repeated, breathing out in relief when he heard the door close.

-

Another day of his ‘hunger strike’ had earned him the right to be amongst other prisoners again. Maybe they thought that he would have more difficulty refusing food when everyone else ate around him. That or his punishment for the outburst had been served. Whatever the case he found himself seated next to Mbege for breakfast at their usual table.

His stomach hated him. It growled and whined and hurt at the sight of food. He wanted to devour the disgusting porridge and yet he merely stared at it. Mbege did thankfully not comment on it but he shoved his glass of juice towards Murphy with a firm look. It took all of Murphy’s willpower to down it, in one go, before giving his friend a little smile. Mbege’s crime would definitely be pardoned, he still had eight months to go but Murphy was certain of it. At least his friend had family that would mourn him if he was not, the same family who would be thrilled to welcome him back when he was. He had to be. There had to be some justice in this world and Mbege deserved that justice.

“That guard is staring at you.” He saw Mbege’s eyes drift towards the closest guard-post and followed his eyes there. Bellamy wasn’t staring per se but he was indeed paying extra attention to their table.

“I punched him in the face, of course he’s staring. Probably just fuming that he didn’t land a better punch himself.” Murphy deflected with a well-practiced smirk. The other prisoner gave him a raised eyebrow while switching their trays, clearly wary of the answer. He gave Murphy a hesitant look, only digging in once Murphy gave him a nod of approval.

A glance to the guard-post revealed that Bellamy had seen it all and he did not look too pleased with it. Well he could just go fuck himself. There were no rules that prohibited it so he could not get punished for it and waste was frowned upon so Murphy actually deserved some praise.

“What happened to you hand?” Mbege’s dark eyes were firmly fixed on the knuckles of his right hand and Murphy hurriedly pulled down his sleeve over it, giving his friend a tight smile.

“Scraped it a few weeks back and it healed pretty badly, don’t you remember? When Dax tripped me.” The other delinquent did not look too convinced but gave a nod and continued eating. It was close enough to the truth to pass and Murphy was thankful for that.

-

“You know…they might still pardon you…”

Murphy glanced up from his food, quickly dragging his sleeve down over the name and giving Mbege a confused smile. “What?”

His friend nodded towards Murphy’s plate with a serious look.

“They might still pardon you so you should eat. They’ll start looking at your case a month before you turn eighteen and after they start reviewing it the guards usually make it easy to guess how it’s going so… you could stop eat then, right? No use to starve now. I say eat, get fat, maybe you won’t fit in the airlock.” He gave a crooked smile and a little laugh. Murphy found himself chuckling a little bit before nodding.

“I guess you’re right.”

“Always am, dude.”

Murphy gave him a grin and poked in his food, eating a few mouthfuls before the nausea took over and he gave up. A glance at Mbege earned him a warm smile though and Murphy tried his best to swallow around the lump in his throat and return the smile

-

His door opened abruptly two weeks after he had been released from solitude. It was not mealtime, it was not shower time and it was not Visitation Day. It was unexpected. It was weird. It put Murphy on edge and he put down his book and stood up just as his visitor entered.

“Officer Blake, what can I do for you?” he drawled out, crossing his arms over his chest.

The guard was quiet when he walked over. Murphy saw the door close behind him and furrowed his brows. Bad. This was bad. Normally, he wasn’t one to back down. However, with Bellamy’s heavy steps he took a few steps to the side, towards the wall to make more room between them, to not be trapped between an angry guard and his bed.

It was not enough. Soon Bellamy was directly in front of him. There was a harsh fury burning like embers in his eyes. It made it a little harder for Murphy to breath and he put his arm out, desperately trying to keep the other man at bay. Bellamy ignored it completely. He grabbed it with a strong hand and shoved it out of the way, squeezing it as he went while glaring down at the prisoner.

“Why the hell aren’t you eating?” Murphy winced at the harsh grip on his arm and he tried to pull away with a glare. Great idea Murphy, back into a wall. Really clever.

“Let go.”

“Answer the question inmate.” Murphy snorted angrily, pushing at Bellamy with his free arm.

“Why does it matter if I eat? I’m gonna die anyway. And let the fuck go off me!” He pushed once more as Bellamy dropped his arm and took a step back. His brown eyes stared at him in silence and it made Murphy uncomfortable. At least the smoldering anger seemed to have settled.

“Besides, I am eating. Mbege sees to that. He guilt trips me into eating at least something for every meal. ” He gave another angry snort, shaking his head and leaning against the wall. Discreetly, he rubbed his arm trying to hold back a grimace. That was going to bruise.

“You’re not eating enough.” Bellamy grumbled. His dark eyes made him almost weak at the knees, his soulmate was not just handsome. Up close like this Murphy could admit, had to admit, that the man was gorgeous. He almost licked his lips. Almost. He needed a distraction. Anger of his own would have to suffice.

“Don’t worry, you won’t have to die until your official time is up.” His voice was practically dripping with venom as his eyes raked up and down over the guard. “How noble of you, by the way, to throw your life away so that I could die. Really honorable of you, _Bellamy Blake_.”

The older man met his gaze, mouth pressed tightly together and eyes carefully guarded. His hands were clenched at his sides and Murphy noticed that he had taken another step back.

“But I guess it was easy, huh? Since we’re strangers I mean? To make the decision that I deserved to be floated. You’re such a _good_ soulmate. I’m so lucky to have gotten _you_.”

Bellamy huffed, crossing his arms across his chest.

“You would have been floated even without me.” He grumbled.

“Yeah, but after having had three days to think about the whole soulmate thing I thought you would be my ticket to a new beginning. To a new start. Where I could clean up my act and create something better, something other, for me than death.” He swallowed the lump in his throat, walking around Bellamy to his bed. He picked up his book and laid down, staring at the pages instead of the guard. “Should’ve known that luck like that wasn’t for me.” He muttered bitterly.

“Inmate-“

“You know my name, asshole. It’s slapped right across your cheek for fuck’s sake.” He had not meant to growl but he was pissed off. Even Byrnes, who loathed him, had never called him inmate. Bellamy looked at him, lips pressed in a tight line again before he gave a sigh.

“Jonathan, it was-“

“Murphy. I prefer Murphy.” Bellamy gave him an annoyed look, pulling his hand through his hair. Only now did the prisoner realize that the guard was not wearing his gloves.

“Well, _Murphy_ , you’re right. I don’t know you. And I’m sorry if my decision was taken as something personal, I assure you that it wasn’t. I have my own reasons for it. If I could have given you another chance, I would’ve. Even if you did plant a pretty good punch on me”

Murphy’s hands gripping the book turned almost white as he stared blankly at the pages.

“Then why can’t you?”

There was no answer and when he turned his gaze towards the guard he was looking incredibly wistful. Soon the wistfulness turned into an apologetic look which he directed at Murphy and he gave another sigh.

“I just can’t, can’t that be enough of an answer. At least for now?” Murphy shrugged and stared back into his book with a whispered ‘I guess’.

A few minutes passed before he looked over at the guard again with a questioningly look on his face.

“Was there anything else?”

His soulmate gave a little nod, straightening up and put his hands behind his back. He cleared his throat and looked up at the ceiling.

“Doctor Griffin only let the agreement pass on the condition that during the six months left until your eighteenth birthday I would be offered leisure hours that I could spend in here with you. One or two per day. And-“ Murphy raised an eyebrow at the older man. “I’m now asking you if this is something you would…. Enjoy. It would give me and you an opportunity to get to know one another. If that is something you want of course.” Murphy mulled it over in his head before sighing.

“If doctor Griffin recommended it then… sure. Bring a deck of cards or something.”

Bellamy nodded and then gave a curt nod before moving towards the door that opened for him. Murphy’s gaze followed him out before it returned once more to his book, but everything he tried to read after that visit evaded his mind and he soon gave up.

-

He was quite sure that Mbege had seen the name. He must have. Meeting up three times a day and sitting next to each other while moving mostly hands. He had to have seen it. But he had not commented on it even if he had.

“Hello.”

Murphy raised his eyes and furrowed his brows in confusion when a lovely brunette sat down in front of him. Mbege raised an eyebrow and eyed the girl.

“No one sits there. Find another seat.”

The girl merely gave them both a smile before turning her astoundingly beautiful hazel eyes towards Murphy.

“Nah, I think me and the brother in law have some things to talk to.”

Murphy almost choked on the sip of water he had just taken before he stared up at her with an even more confused look. Mbege gave her a mirroring one.

“What’s your name girl?”

“Octavia Blake.”

_Blake_.

Murphy froze all over. No. Not even. Siblings were impossible. Forbidden. His eyes glanced at the guard in charge. Bellamy had not gotten dinner duty today. To his horror however, he noticed how Mbege took his tray and got to his feet.

“I guess you two have some things to talk about. See you tomorrow Murphy.” And with that he was moving away before Murphy had time to protest even a little bit. Feeling both panic and resignation, he turned towards the girl and eyed her with his mouth pressed tightly together in a thin line. There were some resemblance to Bellamy’s face he supposed.

The girl smiled at him, eyeing him just as much as he did her before her hands shot out and grabbed his arm. She dragged it not-so-discreetly across the table to look down at his knuckles, scraping her thumb over the name.

“I knew it!” she hissed with a happy face. Murphy pulled back his arm and looked around him nervously, pulling down his sleeve over the carvings.

“Knew what?” he growled angrily, turning his gaze down to his food.

“That the stupid band aid my brother has been wearing was hiding something. I saw the fight so… I mean, I’ve seen you attack some guards by now but you’re not _that_ strong. You don’t leave scrape marks for weeks so he had to be hiding something.”

Murphy glared at her, eyes filled with annoyance.

“Brother? Are you talking about Officer Blake? That’s impossible. No one has siblings.”

The girl huffed at him and crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back in her chair.

“Well obviously some do. And that is obviously why I’m here. One can have more than one child, but it’s forbidden to have it so… the parents get floated and the extra kid get sent to prison. Most of the time, those children get pardoned though. It’s not like they can be punished for being born, they didn’t choose that.” She gave him a dazzling smile. “Which means we should get to know each other so I’ll have a friend other than my brother when I get out.”

Murphy stared at her in confusion.

A friend other than her brother when she got out.

Did she- did she not know? Had Bellamy not told her?

Well, if he had not told her yet it had to be a reason for it and it was not Murphy’s place to tell her of the mess so instead he merely sucked it in and gave her a terse smile.

“You don’t want me as a friend, Pocahontas, so just… Back off. Your brother has made it quite clear that he wants nothing to do with me. When I get out. So, find friends elsewhere.” He nodded towards the two druggies Jasper and Monty, who were eating together and talking to Spacewalker. “Now, do you see those guys over there, there what you would call _nice people_. Go make friends with them. Alright?”

The girl, Octavia, did not move. Instead she gave a chuckle and leaned over the table to snatch some of his untouched vegetables.

“My brother is going to want you around when you get out. He just doesn’t know it yet. Give it some time, he’ll realize you’re his type.”

Murphy snorted in amusement, a smile tugging at his lips as he slapped her hand away when she tried to sneak away more food.

“His type? What about my type? How do you know your brother’s my type?” Octavia grinned at him.

“Because he’s normally everyone’s type.”

“Really? Well, he ain’t mine.” Murphy muttered albeit with a grin as he raised his glass and downed the last of its content. Octavia stole the last of his carrots with a cocky grin, chewing it loudly while looking him over.

“We’ll see.” She almost sang before getting her tray and disappearing towards the door.

-

The first week, and most part of the second, the two of them merely played cards. Bellamy would show up a bit after dinner, there would be curt nods exchanged and then they would play for an hour, maybe two. After that Bellamy would collect the deck and give him a low ‘goodnight’ and disappear again.

It was nice and neutral.

It was also frustratingly boring.

He was so going to ask Bellamy to bring something else than cards. Anything else than cards.

“What are you in for?”

Murphy looked up from his cards, startled by the sound of Bellamy’s voice in the otherwise quiet room. The other man was looking at him, studying him. The prisoner shifted in his seat, turning his gaze back to his hand while clearing his throat.

“Haven’t you read my case?”

“Nope. They offered to let me read it but I declined. I’d rather hear stuff like that from you.”

The quietness settled between them once more. At least for a little while.

“So what are you in for?”

“Didn’t they tell you that when they tried my case?”

“Wasn’t there for that part. I was only there at the end, right before they were to deliberate.”

Murphy glanced at him, throwing away two cards and picking up two new while he pondered on how much to tell him.

Half seemed alright.

“I attacked the chancellor. I crushed a mirror and took one of the shards, broke into the chancellor’s apartment and ambushed him.” He said flatly, keeping his eyes on Bellamy to gauge his reaction.

Bellamy changed three cards with wrinkled eyebrows, eyeing them quickly before turning his brown and surprisingly warm eyes back at Murphy.

“Why?” he asked with a puzzled look and Murphy was yet again pondering how much to tell. This whole socializing charade was intended for them to get to know each other after all. Murphy bit his lip, grinding it between his teeth before giving in. He was going to die, so why keep it in?

“Because I got the flu.” He almost smiled at Bellamy’s raised eyebrow, not waiting for the older man to open his mouth to ask ‘why’ again. “Because, after I got the flu my dad stole medicine and got floated. Because, after my dad was floated my mom started to drink heavily. So heavily in fact that she died in a pool of her own disgusting vomit. But not before she told me that I was the reason my dad was dead.”

Bellamy had lowered his cards to the table, looking at Murphy with something that could almost be read as pity. Murphy hated it.

“So, since I didn’t wanna face the fact that I might be what killed him I decided to lay the blame on someone else. On the one who actually sent him to his death. I wanted him to feel what my dad felt, to feel what I felt and I wanted to see him die.”

The feeling was starting to manifest itself again, tickling through his arteries and pulsing through his veins. He swallowed harshly. Not know. Not again. He met Bellamy’s gaze dead on, his eyes cold and revealing nothing of the emotions wriggling inside his chest.

“That’s why they want to float me. That’s why they want me dead. It’s personal, I’m considered violent and I’m expendable since I will most likely be more of a burden to this society than anything else.”

He put his cards down on the table, clenching his hands into fists once they had slipped down onto his lap. He tried to still them. Tried to force down the familiar feeling coursing through his body, spreading like a virus and urging him to act. Act upon that it.

A glance in Bellamy’s direction, since he had lowered his gaze somewhere in the beginning of that last bit, provided Murphy with nothing. The other man sat like a statue with a careful mask hiding what he was thinking or feeling. Murphy might have overshared, at least for a first time conversation. Bellamy might not want to come back tomorrow.

It was a relief.

It was also not.

The room had turned too quiet, the atmosphere too still. He got to his feet in a swift movement and quickly put distance between him and Bellamy by settling down on the bed. His legs were drawn up to his chest with his arms around them as he gazed at the guard with his chin resting on top of his knees.

“Is that why you don’t have access to water like the other inmates? They all have a pitcher in their rooms, all day long.” Bellamy’s eyes danced over him, like he was some sort of puzzle. “Are they afraid of you... Using it?”

Murphy tried, he really tried, to contain the small and bitter laugh that escaped through his lips. The traitorous bastards let it through and he leaned back until his shoulder blades hit the wall. His head almost lolled back against the wall, letting him stare blankly up at the ceiling as he remembered the blood.

“They’re afraid of that, yes. But not because of the whole Jaha spectacle. No… there was… there was an incident. Similar to when I attacked you, only a few weeks after I got here.”

God, there had been so much blood. For such a little cut there had been so. much. blood. And a little bit of his own as well. Absently, he stroked the scars decorating his fingertips.

“You wanna talk about that one?” Bellamy’s smooth and warm voice cut through the room’s quietness like a knife through butter, completely effortless. And for a split second Murphy actually considered spilling that story as well.

“It’s in my file if you’re curious.” He countered instead with perhaps a bit too much bite in his voice. He had tried for playful and failed miserably.

He heard Bellamy sigh. He heard how cards were shuffled together. It was to be expected though. Not just because of Murphy’s little story time, but also since their time for today was almost at its end. He did nothing until he heard the shuffling of someone getting to their feet. That was when he raised his head properly and stared at Bellamy’s back as the man moved towards the door.

“Will you be back tomorrow?”

The words were out before he could stop them. When he repeated them in his head they sounded astoundingly pathetic. If Bellamy though the same, he thankfully did not show it.

“Yeah, yeah I will. Want me to bring the cards?”

“Sure.”

“Alright, goodnight Murphy.”

At that, the guard left the room and the door closed with an electrical beep behind him, leaving Murphy to stare at the cold metal instead.

“Goodnight… Bellamy.” He mumbled into the empty room, giving a sigh before pulling his covers up to his neck where he sat.

His mind was buzzing, going through every detail of the visit while he tried to push down the feeling that screamed inside him, the one he could not quite classify. Despite the room’s quietness it was way too noisy and Murphy laid down, covering his head with the covers.

Someone seemed to still like him in this universe, thank the stars, and sleep came quickly and pulled him down to join it inside a darkness more vast than space itself.

-

The next day, right before the doors were supposed to open up for breakfast, Abbey entered his room. She was wearing an apologetic smile and stayed near the closed door. She gave him a once over, looking very relieved.

“Good morning Murphy.”

He had not moved since last night, sitting with his back to the wall on his bed, and he raised an eyebrow.

“It was at least.” He muttered, pulling the covers up to his chin again since they had slipped down a bit. “What can I do for you, doctor?”

“I’m sorry about our talk. I really wanted to have it but it was delayed a bit. Would you mind having it now or should I come back later?” she smiled gently at him, her voice and warm eyes making the anger and irritation vaporize from his body and he gave a tired sigh. It was better they had it now, or she would take up Bellamy time.

Murphy grimaced slightly to himself at that. _Bellamy time_? Really? He was going to bring that expression to his grave.

“We can talk now.” He patted the bed, the space next to him. “You can sit down if you’d like.”

“Oh, thank you.” Abbey sat down with a small smile. Her hands were folded and resting in her lap. “How are you, Murphy? I heard you weren’t eating well?”

Murphy merely shrugged at her question, grey eyes lowered to the floor. He was eating. Mbege made sure of that.

“I eat.” He mumbled when she kept staring at him. “I just don’t have too much of an appetite you know. Kinda hard to have one when you know you’re gonna get sucked out in space in the nearby future.”

Abbey nodded with a somber look on her face. It was better than pity. He absolutely loathed pity. He played with the edge of the blanket, twiddling it through and around his fingers while trying to avoid looking anymore at the woman sitting just a little bit away from him.

“I wanted to fight harder for you, I want you to know that. That is not the fate I would have seen for you but… The rest of the council was determined to ensure it was decided this way. I fought as much as I was capable of Murphy and regrettably it wasn’t enough. I’m sorry.”

She reminded him of his mother, what little he could remember about her before the floating. Her warmth, her voice, a time when she cared. Abbey reminded him of all that and it made his chest ache if only a little.

When he didn’t answer her, Abbey gave a sigh and tilted her head. He could see it in the corner of his eye.

“So how are you and Bellamy getting along? I heard he was coming around here like I suggested.” She was smiling at him now. Murphy’s heart tugged at the sight of it, at how enthusiastic she sounded. He almost did not answer.

“Good. It’s going good. We talk, play cards and that’s about it so… Good.” He chewed on his bottom lip, glancing at her almost glowing face. “Can I… can I ask you something?” he wondered after having cleared his throat. Abbey nodded.

“Why’d you slip that into the deal? Why did you suggest he’d come here and hang out?”

The woman’s smile slipped a little and turned as somber as her look had been previously. She reached out a hand and placed it on one of his knees. He allowed it. It was oddly comforting.

“Because I hoped, and still do, that if he spends time with you and learns who you are, who you really are, he might change his mind. If he does, the council’s decision will be null and void.”

He thought it over. He admired her spirit. He really did. But he suspected that if Bellamy were to change his mind it would have nothing to do with him. It was very sweet that she had thought of that scenario though.

“We can always hope.” He added after a bit of silence as he forced a fake smile her way. He would have loved to give her a real one but he did not feel like he could muster it at the moment, no matter how much he wanted to give her one.

It seemed to be enough for her though as she nodded and added a low ‘we will hope’. Her hand slipped from his knee and she got to her feet.

“So… Is there anything you want to talk to me about? Do you want to have regular chats with me? You do know you can talk to me whenever you want, right?”

Murphy shook his head, giving her another fake smile.

“Nah, it’s cool… I mean, I know I can but… I have Bellamy to talk to, and Mbege so I’m cool. It’s fine, I’m fine, there’s not much to talk about anyway but thanks… for the offer that is.”

Abbey nodded, laid her hand on his knee and squeezed almost affectionately before she mumbled an ‘okay’ and left the room.

The door remained open after she left and Murphy got up from his bed, guessing it was a sign that breakfast was being served. It was probably for the best if he managed to get to the canteen and force down some food or Mbege would make him pay for skipping.

-

A few days after Abbey’s visit when he and Mbege was having lunch Octavia settled down in front of them with a content grin.

“You should thank me.” She announced proudly before digging into her food and the two boys gave each other a questioning look before Mbege turned to the girl.

“Who are you talking to?”

Octavia pointed to Murphy with her fork, grinning around the food in her mouth. Murphy eyed her suspiciously at that.

“Why should I thank you?” he asked her with a raised eyebrow. The girl merely pointed her fork in another direction and Murphy followed it. It lead to Bellamy. His brows furrowed together and he turned back to Octavia.

“Why would I need to thank you for that?” he asked bemusedly.

“Look again.” The girl urged giddily.

Murphy sighed but did as she said and looked again. Really looked. He was just about to give up when he noticed it. No bandage.

Bellamy was displaying his name. Displaying Murphy’s name for everyone in the room. For everyone on the ark.

It did explain why there had been more people than usual which had stared at him and whispered amongst themselves when he got his food and walked over to Mbege. Most of them probably remembered his last breakdown.

He swallowed awkwardly, clearing his throat and looked down at his plate. He tried to keep the stupid grin off his face and thankfully managed.

“So? Why should I thank you for that?” he asked as nonchalantly as he could muster.

“Because I told him to man up and stop hiding like a coward.” Octavia all but sung before she continued eating.

Mbege had noticed by now as well and gently bumped his shoulder against Murphy’s with a small smile, even when he knew he could get in trouble by it. Murphy lost the second war against the grin and it spread across his face as he turned to Octavia.

“Well, thanks.” He offered, eyes lingering off to Bellamy once more as the grin grew.

-

 “Abbey stopped me on my way to work today.” Murphy looked up from his book as Bellamy’s voice pierced the content silence that had been resting around them.

He had lasted two more moths with playing cards until it had become so boring that he had finally caved and asked Bellamy to bring him books, anything written he could get his hands on would do.

Every visit Bellamy would bring a new book for Murphy as well as one for himself. They would sit beside each other while silently reading and once in a while one of them would comment on something and then they would talk for a bit and then go back to reading. It was peaceful and more effortless than the card games had been.

“Oh? What did she want?”

Bellamy was not looking at him, only staring down at the pages in his own book.

“She asked me to reconsider my decision. And I told her I couldn’t. I also told her why.”

Murphy tore his eyes from the older man and swallowed around the lump in his throat. He could feel that familiar feeling of anger and something more curse through him, streaming along every blood vessel and vein, making him warm and restless in the process. He desperately tried to shove it down but it was hard. He had not given in to it for a while now, not for almost three months and it demanded to be released. Somehow, he managed to control it. Managed to make it just barely simmer underneath his skin.

“So?” he asked. Snapped might have been a more accurate description and he internally winced at that. He did not need to start a fight. Not now.

But Bellamy did not seem to take it to heart.

“She told me that you also deserved to know about why I’m condemning both of us to death.” Bellamy paused, finally looking up from his book to look at Murphy. “And she was right, you deserve to know.”

Gently, Murphy let his book fall to the bed and he gave Bellamy his full attention. He would be lying if he said that he did not want to know.

Bellamy laid down his own book and leaned back against the wall, glancing at Murphy before turning his warm, brown gaze towards the door the opposite wall.

“You’ve met my sister… I’ve seen you sitting together at meals. You know why she’s in here. Normally, when there’s a child extra in a family that child gets pardoned as soon as it turns eighteen. I always figured it would be the same for Octavia if she was ever caught considering that she hadn’t done anything criminal or against the law. But, as you said once, your case is personal. So a day or so before the meeting where they tried your case, Kane came up to me and uhm… _explained_ to me that the chancellor had given me an… an ultimatum.”

Murphy could see how his soulmate clenched his fists at that, could see his jaw tense up.

“I could either ignore the meeting and let the council save you because of the bond we share, and by doing that also making sure that my sister gets floated in your stead-” Bellamy gave a grimace at that.

“ _Or_ I could go in there and tell the council that I was willing to get floated together with you, which in that case would guarantee that when Octavia turns eighteen she will be pardoned.”

Murphy’s hands were shaking in his lap and that anger was dangerously close to erupting. So close in fact that he rose from the bed and put as much distance between himself and Bellamy as he could while he tried to reel it in.

In the corner of his eye he saw Bellamy get up from the bed as well.

“At first it was easy to choose the latter alternative. I promised my mom to take care of my sister and… and you were a stranger, a stranger that had attacked me to boot and…”

Bellamy needed to shut up. Murphy just wanted him to stop talking. To stop coming closer.

“And I stand by my decision, I really do. But it is… it’s harder to bear now. I know you, you’re not just a stranger anymore and if there was a chance to sacrifice just me I’d take it.”

A hand landed on his shoulder and Murphy shut his eyes tightly, fighting with every fiber of his body to push down the feeling, the urge to act.

“Murphy? Murphy come on, say something?”

Bellamy was so close now. He was right in Murphy’s space. His control was slipping and in a matter of seconds he had raised a shaking hand, ready to strike just as a cross between a sob and a shriek left his throat.

The blow was parried and he was pulled in closer to Bellamy, with strong arms wrapping themselves around him. One around his waist and another around his shoulders locking him against his soulmate’s chest. His chin rested against the older man’s collarbone and instinctively Murphy buried his face against Bellamy’s throat while his clenched fists hit against Bellamy’s back, at anything he could reach, and sobs wrecked through his own body.

Grief.

That was the other feeling. The feeling he had pushed away for so long. It had morphed into the anger he had felt all those time. It was still tainted with anger but it was the main feeling tearing through him. It tore through his veins, tore through his muscles, his fingers, his tears. Everything radiated grief and sorrow as the fists stilled and all that was left was Murphy crying against Bellamy’s throat, clinging to him like his world depended on Bellamy keeping him upright. Which, in this moment, it did. For if Bellamy were to let him go, Murphy was sure he would collapse to the floor in a heap of sobs and sadness. He preferred the anger over this. He really did. This was torture. It was unpleasant. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see and couldn’t hear. For the first time in six years he let himself cry.

Bellamy held him, crushing him against the older man’s chest and Murphy could vaguely register hushing and soothing noises coming from him. His chest still ached horribly but the noises calmed him down after a while. Calmed him down until the tears dried up and the only thing remaining was Murphy shaking in Bellamy’s arms. The anger was gone. The grief lingered in his chest just under the surface, not completely gone but satisfied for now.

Murphy was _exhausted_.  He did not know how long he had been at it but it felt like _hours_.

They were soon moving. Or rather, Bellamy was moving and Murphy stumbled along with him. Back to the bed where Bellamy gently loosened Murphy’s grip on him and pushed him down on the bed.

Murphy avoided his gaze.

Now that he had calmed down and settled he felt embarrassed and humiliated. He had shown such weakness, such vulnerability.

John Murphy did not cry.

But he had. And in front of Bellamy as well.

Gentle hands guided him down on the bed, carefully shoved him closer the wall. He felt the mattress dip down as Bellamy laid down next to him. An arm was once again laid around him, pulling him closer to once more cradle him against Bellamy’s chest.

A part of him wanted to pull away but the other part, the one who won, wanted to nuzzle closer to the other man.

“Do you have to leave soon?” his voice was hoarse and he sounded almost pathetic as it reached his ears. Not that Bellamy seemed to care about that.

“We still have about an hour.” Bellamy’s voice was deep and warm, soothing him in a way he did not know he needed it to. “You should try to get some sleep.”

Murphy nodded, lifting his eyes to Bellamy’s face. Before he could stop himself he gently drew his marked knuckles against Bellamy’s marked cheekbone, shuddering at the same time Bellamy did.

“I would have chosen Octavia over me too.” He mumbled, forcing a small smile at the guard before he nuzzled his face back close against his throat and closed his eyes.

He felt Bellamy sigh but at least he had the decency to not comment on it and Murphy was allowed to drift off to sleep without any interruptions.

-

Murphy grimaced as he poked around his dinner. The thing on his plate could in his opinion hardly be called ‘food’. He forced a few bites of it down though, not wanting a sharp finger in the side from Mbege anytime soon. He still had a bruise from a few days ago when he had refused to eat breakfast. He could see the almost invisible smile from his friend when he glanced over, fork in his mouth. Mbege was _such a dork_. He also glanced across the table at the girl who now seemed to be a permanent resident at their table.

And today Octavia seemed awfully cheery, even for her. The two boys both merely kept quiet and waited for her to spill about _why_. She normally did. Although Murphy suspected it had something to do with today being Visitation Day. Most kids cheered up on Visitation Day. Except those who did not have any visitors, like Murphy or that little kid Charlotte.

“Have you guys heard about the council’s new initiative?” at last she spoke but still none of the two boys spoke, they merely waited. More was sure to follow even if they asked a follow up question or not.

“Apparently they’re supposed to gather a crew of a hundred people and send them down to earth.”

Mbege gave a snort and continued eating while shaking his head. Murphy could have sworn he heard his friend mutter ‘suicidal idiots’.

“I’m guessing there’s a purpose for this madness?” Murphy asked the girl, eyebrow raised and arms soon crossed over his chest. Octavia nodded excitedly.

“They’re supposed to see if it’s liveable! They’re gonna collect samples, of soil and water and other stuff. They’re gonna be down there for at least a month!” her smile was contagious and Murphy could feel a tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Or, they’re going to be down there for a few seconds and then they’ll die from radiation.”

Octavia huffed and stuck out her tongue at him.

“You’re such a joy killer Murphy.” She accused.

“Why are you so excited about it anyway?” Mbege rolled his eyes at her. “It’s not like they’ll let you go.”

“Well that’s just the thing, Clarke says that there’s a high chance that they’ll let some of the more well-behaved delinquents come along!”

“ _Maybe there is a beast… maybe it’s only us._ ” It had slipped so quickly from his lips that he had not managed to stop it. Beside him Mbege groaned and rubbed his temples with a ‘not again’ muttered under his breath and in front of him Octavia was giving him a quizzical look.

“It’s a quote, from Lord of the flies.” Mbege informed while he rolled his eyes, a huge grin stretching from ear to ear which showed off his perfect teeth. “One of this dork’s favourite books. Honestly, I thought he’d cave much sooner than this. He likes to speak in quotes. When he does speak that is.”

Octavia still looked at them both. “I don’t… I’ve never heard of- of Lord of the flies?”

Murphy and Mbege shared a look before Mbege shrugged his shoulders and continued eating, clearly disinterested in the subject. Murphy gave a sigh, obviously it was his turn to entertain the conversation.

“It’s a classic, you should read it. But first of all, who’s Clarke? And secondly, and I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you.” He managed a small and quite genuine small towards her.

“I’ll look into it… But first of all, thank you Murphy. That means a lot coming from my brother-in-law.” She was now positively beaming at him. “And secondly, Clarke is Clarke, you know, Clark Griffin?”

At that, because he had not moved at all at ‘brother-in-law’, Mbege’s head snapped up and he eyed her with narrowed eyes, still stuffing his face though.

“Clarke Griffin?” he asked between bites.

It was Octavia’s turn to roll her eyes now. She nodded and emptied her cup.

“Yeah, Clarke Griffin.”

“As in… the princess Clarke Griffin?”

“You know, she hates that nickname.”

Mbege was now grinning at her and Murphy groaned.

“Trust me, everyone who calls the princess ‘princess’ knows she loathes it. That’s kind of why she’s called that from the beginning.” Murphy informed, forcing down another bite of food despite the rush of nausea.

“Well, since she’s my friend and I’m your friend I’m asking you to not call her that. We might be criminals but we don’t have to be mean!”

Mbege laughed quietly and his grin turned to a smirk.

“You’re no criminal though girl. You were just born. You didn’t do anything to get here.”

Murphy could see on Octavia just how affronted she was by that statement and even he gave a small chuckle.

He actually kept on chuckling now and then throughout the ensuing debate between the two of them on what exactly counted as a criminal and whether Octavia could call herself one or not and, somehow, he managed to empty his plate along the way.

-

“Have you ever been in love?”

Murphy rolled his eyes at that one.

“Could you have asked a sappier question?”

“It’s my turn to ask and I stand by that question so just answer it, you chicken.”

They had been doing this for the last hour, witting with their backs to the wall on the bed. Both of them had a book in their hands but none of them were reading. At least Murphy was not, he was still on the same page as he had been when he opened it. Instead they were having a game of ’20 questions’, where 20 was more like ‘as many they could cram into their time together’.

So far Murphy had found out how Octavia got her name, Bellamy’s happiest memory, his worst and more. Likewise Bellamy had found out things such as Murphy’s first fight, his favorite guard – which was not Bellamy like one could think, the best day of his life and what animal from before the earth’s destruction Murphy would have liked as a pet.

He was not sure if he could answer the last question though. Or, maybe his hesitation on the answer suggested he could.

“No, no I’ve never… Not once. Kind of hard to fall in love when you’re stuck in a cell for most part of your day. Doesn’t really create the best conditions for romance as you can imagine.” He cleared his throat and gave a tiny smile as he glanced at Bellamy. “How about you? Ever been in love?”

Bellamy shrugged his shoulders, eyes crinkling beautifully in the corners when a wide grin grew on his lips.

“Never been in love.” Murphy was pushed unexpectedly to the side by a friendly shove of Bellamy’s shoulder. “I think I was waiting for you.” Murphy watched as a flash of a grimace fleeted over Bellamy’s features. “Not that I love you.” Another grimace. “Well, not yet. I think I could learn to though. You’re quite an acquired taste.” He joked as he once again bumped his shoulder against Murphy’s.

“Wow, how nice of you. No wonder you’re alone.” Murphy joked right back with a loop-sided grin of his own.

“Hey, being alone is a choice on my part. I’ll have you know I’m a highly sought after product on the market.” Bellamy flipped a page, that specific sound the pages would make when being turned never failed to relax Murphy. “I’ve dated my fair share of ladies. I just never loved them and, therefore, broke it off. Wait, scratch that. I’ve _loved_ some of them, just never been _in love_ with them.”

Murphy’s hands might just have gripped the book a little bit harder than normally. Why he did not know, he only knew that he felt a flare of something incredibly uncomfortable race up his spine only to leave him with less concentration for the words in the book than before.

“Really? Who?”

Bellamy tore his gaze from his own book and looked Murphy over.

“What? You mean who have I dated?”

Murphy shook his head slightly, keeping his eyes down on the pages without seeing a single letter written on there.

“Who have you loved?” he was not jealous. He was merely curious. But he did breath out a sigh of relief when Bellamy seemed to overlook the jealous qualities of the question.

“I believe it was my turn to ask a question now but fine, I’ll humor you this once. And it’s more like I’ve loved one of them. I like almost all of them but I have only ever loved one of them.” There was a pause and Murphy had trouble bringing air into his lungs. “I loved Clarke. No that’s not right, I _love_ Clarke. We dated briefly before realizing that we shouldn’t be more than friends. And we’re still very good friends. She actually made sure I got this job. I was a janitor before I dated her but she, and Abbey, saw potential in me and somehow convinced Kane to let me be a guard. Even with having a sister in prison.”

_Clarke Griffin_.

Bellamy certainly got a demotion with Murphy as his soulmate.

“Princess, huh? Well, shame you had to wait for me.” He joked, nudging Bellamy with his shoulder.

“Don’t do that.” Bellamy’s voice was a low rumble and then Murphy looked at him, slightly confused, he met a pair of mirthless eyes. He remembered Octavia’s words _. She hates that nickname_.

“Sorry, I won’t call her-“

“Not that.” Bellamy interrupted him, his voice laced with irritation. “Don’t sell yourself short. You always do that. Saying shit about yourself that isn’t true.” A warm hand was placed on his knee, a thumb rubbed gently over it as Bellamy continued. “You’re not a bad catch Murphy. There’s a lot of people worse I could’ve gotten attached to. It’s not a ‘shame’ I had to wait for you and your name across my face isn’t the worst thing to ever happen to me. Stop giving yourself such a hard time.”

Bellamy sighed, gently guiding his arm to rest across Murphy’s shoulder. It took a bit of coaxing but eventually Murphy’s defenses crumbled and he moved in closer to the guard, settling in next to his warmth with an abashed whispered ‘thanks’. He felt the curl of Bellamy’s lips against the top of his head and almost leaned in closer.

Time was running out. Today’s visit would soon be over. Both of them seemed content with spending the rest of it like that though, sitting close and listening to the peaceful breathing of the one another.

Their peace was broken by the beep and the door swinging open and Murphy let go of Bellamy rather reluctantly. The latter seemed to hesitate when he got to his feet though, looking the inmate over before his eyes stopped at Murphy’s lips.

Murphy’s heart suddenly raced in his chest as Bellamy leaned in over him and one of Murphy’s hands grasped the comforter, clenching it in his closing fist. He forgot how to breathe and yet he was breathing rapidly. But the anticipation was unnecessary as Bellamy placed a hand on his head.

He gently ruffled Murphy’s hair and soon after he had left the room, leaving Murphy slightly disappointed and yearning for something he could not quite put his finger on.

-

The lock gave a beep and the door swung open. Murphy glanced up from his book, eyebrows furrowed deeply on his face. He knew what day today was. Everyone knew what day today was. His door should not be open.

He abandoned his book on the bed, making his way over to the open door and stepping outside like all the others on his floor had. For the first time in his incarceration he followed the line of prisoners over to the visitation room. Awkwardly, since he had no idea what the protocol here was, he walked over to the table Byrnes pointed at for him and sat down, hands resting limply in his lap. His left foot bounced softly beneath the table as he anxiously waited for them to let the visitors inside.

Maybe it would be Bellamy. It was the only one he could think of. But it was a stupid thought, since Bellamy would have to sacrifice this month’s Visitation day with Octavia to see him. He would not do that, not when he saw Murphy every day anyway. Not one of his last two visitations. And if it was not Bellamy, Murphy had no clue who it could be.

The not knowing part had him on edge, his teeth were clenched together as he tried to stop his bouncing leg. His eyes flickered across the room, registered the other delinquents in the room.

Murphy knew the names of everyone on his floor. There had been enough time to memorize them all. He could see Dickson over by the corner table, probably waiting for his sister. Dax to his right and if Murphy remembered correctly he would be waiting for his mom. Then there were other faces such as Sterling, Harper, Myles and others sitting at their own tables in the neat little rows inside the room. Almost like how the benches in a classroom would be placed in one of those old high school movies Murphy had watched as a kid.

Finally, the buzzer on the door rang and the visitors were let inside. He watched as the seats opposite his fellow inmates were filled and grew more and more anxious as the chair opposite himself remained empty. The room was soon filled with low voices talking to each other as well as crying and laughter.

He felt silly sitting there all on his own. And humiliated. It was one thing to never have the door open on Visitation Day, another completely to sit here on his own while the rest of the prisoners were surrounded by their loved ones. It showed the world just how lonely he really was.

“I’m so sorry I’m late, the surgery took longer than mom expected.”

A girl took the seat in front of him, smiling at him as she did. Murphy inspected her in silence, darting his eyes over her face. Blonde hair, pretty eyes that crinkled in the corners when she smiled, a mouth that had a cute little cupid’s bow. He knew her face, at least partly. Abbey’s daughter. The one and only Clarke Griffin, the princess. A vague memory tickled at the back of his head, a flash of the same face but much younger from his time of freedom.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” he raised the corners of his mouth in a small, quick and polite smile. Arms crossed over his chest and he leaned back heavily in his chair, trying to look nonchalant rather than as confused and nervous as he was.

“Octavia has been talking a lot about you when I’ve come to see her. My mom has been talking a lot about you as well, she’s really interested in your case these days. And Bellamy has your name on his face, he’s less talkative but that’s normal. I guess I just wanted to see what all the fuzz was about.”

“How’s it going so far? Am I living up to my reputation?” he wondered, eyebrows slightly raised.

He could not read her, not at all. Her face, once the smile had slipped off, was awfully composed and unreadable. He did not like it.

“I don’t get it.” She uttered eventually, breaking the mutual silence that had emerged between them. “I don’t get why he’d sacrifice his life for your death. Why not just let you live so he could as well? I mean, how dangerous could you be?”

Murphy gave a quick look around, as of yet no one had heard about the awaited execution and he would not mind if it stayed like that either.

“Keep your voice down if you wanna discuss that. Bellamy and I are keeping it under wraps for now. And also, have you even read my file?” Murphy appraised her with an offended look. “I’m violent, it could be very dangerous to let me out in public and- don’t look at me like that!” The girl had the nerve to smirk at him.

“If there was a possibility for that Bellamy wouldn’t spend time with you the way he does now. He thinks that you´re worthy of it and he wouldn’t give it to some violent psychopath.” She sounded sure of it, and Murphy did believe her. His gut was however not comfortable with why.

She knew Bellamy, a lot better than Murphy himself did. The green-eyed monster swirled around in his belly when his mind touched upon the subject. It was illogical to be jealous, she had had time to know him.

“So why is he doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Getting floated. Has he told you?”

“Yes. But if he hasn’t told you it’s not my place to do it.”

She didn’t look too happy with that answer. Bellamy’s secretive approach to this whole situation was starting to piss Murphy off and he had half a mind to just blurt it out for her anyway but as he said, it was not his information to tell. However, she seemed to be quite bright. Maybe she could puzzle it together on her own.

Byrne’s voice floated through the air, informing everyone that visitation was over for this time. Murphy, along with the other inmates, rose from his chair and gave Clarke a cool smile.

“But if you’re that concerned with ‘why’ you should really ask you mom for my file. Plus, he’s your friend right? So you should know him enough to know what he would die for.”

With that he left her, followed the line of other delinquents and they were herded back into their cells and the next floor got a chance to see their loved ones.

-

“You told Clarke!”

Bellamy entered his cell, thundering like a storm cloud as he glared at Murphy.Murphy had not seen him this angry since he punched him in the face. His heart was as quick as a rabbit’s, hammering in his chest while he as nonchalantly laid down his book and got to his feet. His hands were up by his torso, hands splayed out like sun feathers in an attempt to calm his soulmate down.

“I didn’t tell her. When would I have done that?” He tried to keep his tone friendly and calm. He was fairly certain Bellamy would not pummel him but one could not be sure with the anger radiating from the guard.

Bellamy advanced on him and Murphy stepped a few steps to the side, just to not be trapped between Bellamy and the bed.

“I know she saw you last Visitation Day.” Bellamy growled, close enough for Murphy to feel his breathe against his face. “I have access to the records, you know as a _guard_ of this prison.”

“I didn’t tell her.” he repeated between clenched teeth and with defiant eyes.

“Then how come she knew and wanted to talk about it with me?”

“Why didn’t you just tell her from the beginning?”

“So you told her?”

“No I didn’t! She probably figured it out, she’s not stupid!” he shouted, placed his hands against Bellamy’s chest and pushed with all his might. Bellamy barely stumbled. Annoyance and a twinge of guilt roared through him. Bellamy was glaring at him, fists clenched at his sides.

“And to be honest, I don’t see why she couldn’t know. And I think it’s downright _cruel_ that your sister still doesn’t know that you’ll die in less than _two_ _months_!” he pushed once more with a glare of his own. “She’s a nice girl, she should get a chance to say goodbye!”

“Oh yeah? How about Mbege, huh? I can’t help but thinking that he doesn’t know either.” Murphy took a step back, guilt stabbing his abdomen like a knife.

“That’s not the same thing.”

“Oh please-“ Bellamy spit out with an exasperated grimace and a whine from the back of his throat. “Mbege is as much family to you as Octavia is to me, Murphy. He’s like your goddamn brother. So why doesn’t he know, huh?” Bellamy shoved him harshly, sending him flying backwards. Murphy’s back connected with the wall alongside a loud thump and the air left his lungs, tearing a painful gasp from him. Bellamy’s eyes widened in surprise and horror when it dawned on him what he had done.

“Shit, Murphy, hey, you okay?” he was by Murphy’s side in an instant, keeping him upright with a hand on his shoulder and another on his hip. “I’m so sorry, shit.” Murphy gasped for air. Every breath burned in his lungs and he started coughing. He was clutching Bellamy for support, hands clenched in his clothes.

It took a while but soon enough he was breathing normally again.

Bellamy’s hand tentatively cupped his cheek, bringing his eyes up to meet Bellamy’s dark and concerned ones.

“You okay?” he murmured softly.

Murphy wanted to push him away, wanted to scream at him and tell him to leave. He did not though, he was not even mad at Bellamy. Not really. He had probably owed him that shove. No the anger was directed at himself, because Bellamy was right. Mbege was family, the closest he would ever come to it at least, and he had not told him either. Probably for the same reason Bellamy had not told Octavia, _it was easier._ So instead of pushing him, hitting him and yelling at him Murphy only nodded and leaned forward to bury himself against his soulmate’s chest.

Bellamy let him, wrapping his arms around Murphy almost automatically.

“I’m really sorry.” He whispered against Murphy’s ear, hugging him to himself.

“Yeah, me too. I shouldn’t have-… I shouldn’t have told her, you obviously didn’t want her to know so… Sorry.”

A hand was buried in Murphy’s hair. The heaviness of it felt pleasant and comfortable. It suddenly struck him that it could not be as pleasant and comfortable for Bellamy since Shower day was tomorrow and his hair must be properly greasy by now.

He started to discreetly try and detangle himself from the embrace but Bellamy’s arm around his waist stood firm.

“The only way I’m letting you go is if we are to relocate to the bed and then resume this position, Murphy.” Bellamy warned. “It’s not just you who likes to cuddle, I have needs too you know.” He joked with a smile against the shell of Murphy’s ear and the inmate closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm down.

Once he had managed that he nodded softly, hands travelling gently up and down Bellamy’s sides without his permission. The older one did not seem to mind though.

“Alright, let’s move to the bed. Let’s… cuddle.” He managed with a sigh, slowly letting go of the guard.

“Hey, not that tone please. You like cuddling.” Bellamy’s voice was tender but amused as he too let go.

“Yeah, yeah I do.” He admitted with an embarrassed smile playing across his lips.

-

When the guard entered his room, only a couple of weeks before the due date, he was smiling from ear to ear. It made Murphy’s stomach knot in whirlwind of emotions.

“Guess what?” Bellamy asked cheerfully and Murphy put down his book with a shrug of his shoulders.

“You finally managed to tie your shoelaces and will no longer have to use Velcro?”

“Ha-ha, very funny but no. I talked to Abbey today when I met her on her way from Green’s cell.”

Bellamy slung himself down on the bed, ruffling Murphy’s hair with a small chuckle.

“What are you? Twelve?” Murphy muttered, dragged his hands through his shaggy and too long hair and tried to sort out the mess.

“Actually, I’m twenty-three and you know that. But that’s not what we talked about. We talked about the situation with you and I and I told her I still won’t change my decision but I will do what I can to help her win the council over in order for them to retract their sentence. She’s been looking into to this, reading all the law books and what not and she found a clause saying that ‘a decision of floating can be retracted if three out of four council members vote for it to be’.”

Bellamy slapped him lightly on the arm.

“Isn’t that great?”

The longer Murphy took to answer the more Bellamy’s smile died a little by little.

“I said, isn’t that great?” he repeated while gently grabbing Murphy’s hand, stroking across the etched knuckles.

“No. No it’s not great Bellamy.” He said with a sigh, pulling his hand away from Bellamy’s grip even if he would have loved to keep it there. “There’s not a chance in hell that any of those people will change their minds. Jaha won’t allow it.”

Murphy got to his feet, pacing around the now silent room. He was aware of Bellamy eyeing him, studying him and his every move. Most likely waiting for Murphy to get everything off his chest. It was eerie how well the guard had learnt to read him in only a few months’ time. Was he really that translucent?

“Which sucks. The system sucks. All of this _sucks_!” he screamed in frustration. “I’ve changed. I’m not the same as I was and- and okay so, maybe I might have lashed out a few times since I was put here but… I’ve changed…” the last few words were almost whispers. “I just- If they would just give me a second chance I could prove it. But they won’t give me one… And you know, for some reason it’s okay. But it’s not okay that they’re throwing you under the buss at the same time.”

He gave a small and joyless laughter, dragging his shaking hands through his hair. His lungs were burning, his throat was dry and it was getting harder to breathe with every passing second.

“I just… I don’t wanna feel you die.” It was pathetic and sappy but nonetheless true.

Murphy could feel Bellamy’s gaze boring down at the back of his head and the silence was unnerving. He did not dare to turn around and look at his soulmate so he merely stayed where he was, slumped together and staring at the wall like it was the most exciting thing he had ever seen.

“Murphy, get your ass back on the bed.” Bellamy’s voice was soft but made it clear that there was no room for arguments and, slightly hesitant, Murphy did as he was told and shuffled back to the bed where he sat down next to Bellamy.

The older man carefully slung an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. Murphy only struggled a little, grasping at the last of his dignity before he gave up and planted his cheek on Bellamy’s collarbone with a sigh. A hand soon travelled lazily through his hair, messing it up in a most loving way.

“I’m not a cat that needs petting.” He grumbled, no bite to it whatsoever as he leaned into the touch.

“No, but you’re a scared little boy who needs comforting.” Bellamy’s voice rumbled low above him. “Shut up Murphy, you know it’s true.” He added as soon as Murphy opened his mouth to retort the statement which placed a giant smudge on his honor and reputation.

The silence stretched out between them, claiming all the space in the room except the small space around the two of them. They way Bellamy’s chest raised up and down underneath him was very lulling and Murphy had little concentration to notice anything but those even breaths and that hand toying with his hair.

“Everyone needs comforting sometimes.” He continued after what seemed like forever, massaging Murphy’s scalp while he let his voice split the silence like a knife through skin. “And yeah, you’re right, the system does suck. But we can’t change it if we don’t try. Abbey’s helping us try and we can only hope she’s successful. And even if she isn’t, we’ll leave this life together and to me that… Isn’t as bad a thought as it once were. If I have to leave this life, why not with someone I care for?”

Murphy could feel the brief press of lips to his forehead and he swallowed around the lump in his throat. “So you’ll even hold my hand if I want you to?” he rasped out in what he hoped sounded like a joking tone. That little flare of ‘pathetic’ surged through his body though since he was more serious than he would ever reveal.

“That and what else I can do for you, Jonathan.”

Murphy cringed and tilted his head upwards, giving Bellamy a pleading look. “Please don’t ever call me that again. It’s John or Murphy, preferably Murphy.”

“So… I can’t call you sugar?” Bellamy grinned down at him pinching his cheek. Murphy swatted his hand away.

“Never.”

“Aw, come on Murphy. Don’t you wanna be my sugar?”

“I will punch you in the face Blake.”

“Aww, but I thought we had a moment there!”

“Yes, and you totally ruined it.”

They were both grinning at the exchange. It was unfair how good Bellamy looked when he grinned. Murphy had managed to get a jackpot in the soulmate lottery.

Six months was not enough. He wanted more time with this man, he _needed_ more time with him. Granted, he had a theory about the whole soulmate bond messing them both up, amplifying their feelings for one another. He did like it best when he could touch, smell or even just be close to Bellamy. He did not know when it had started but it had to be the bond. Six months was practically nothing.

His eyes fell once more on Bellamy’s grin, on his lips and he swallowed at the surge of _want_.

“Murphy? Murphy hello?”

“ _Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires_.” Murphy barely whispered it and as soon as it was uttered he prayed to whatever heaven existed that Bellamy had not heard it. The amused smile that curled along Bellamy’s lips revealed his prayer fruitless.

“Pray tell, what are those desires Murphy?”

Murphy cleared his throat awkwardly, detangling himself from his soulmate and stood up.

“How about, I tell you one of my desires and you tell me one of yours?” Bellamy suggested, with that smile still lingering on his face.

He pondered it for a little while, letting it stew a little before he gave a tiny nod and turned around to face Bellamy.

“Alright, well, right now… my _black and deep desire_ would be to spend the night, to sleep next to you and actually wake up with you in my arms.” Bellamy scratched his neck with a sheepish smile. “Now tell me one of yours so you can’t hold that mushy crap against me.”

Murphy’s eyes locked on his name across Bellamy’s cheek, only barely visible against his tan skin and freckles. Absently he rubbed his knuckles, feeling the gentle bumps of the letters. He needed to voice it now or he would never do it.

“A kiss.” It came out as a whisper yet it made his throat as dry as if he had been screaming for hours. “Or- or uhm… a lot of kisses. And what you said too…” his courage was leaving him fast.

Bellamy’s sheepish smile turned warmer, softer, and he rose to his own feet. The gap between them was closed effortlessly and Murphy soon felt the heat of Bellamy’s hands against his bare skin, one on his neck and the other on his cheek, cupping it and tilting it up ever so slightly. The small height difference had never been more obvious between them.

“We could start with a kiss though, and then go ahead with more kisses.” A thumb stroked across his cheekbone. “What I said might be more difficult to arrange but I can give you a kiss.”

And with that Bellamy tentatively closed the small gap between them, pressing his lips against Murphy’s in a tender motion. It was brief, barely little more than a peck but it was followed shortly by more of its sort and Murphy gingerly grasped fistfuls of Bellamy’s shirt in his hands to steady himself when his knees felt like they would buckle.

The soulmate bond had to be at least partly to blame.

His legs moved in tandem with Bellamy’s as the older man backed until he sat down on the edge of the bed, gently guiding Murphy down along with him. He straddled his soulmate’s lap, moving his arm up around Bellamy’s neck. He felt hands upon his hips, Bellamy’s strong and warm hips which pulled him flush against the other’s chest.

The kisses were beginning to deepen, with Murphy’s tongue shyly meeting Bellamy’s, when the door beeped and swung open, signaling the end of their time together for the day.

Bellamy groaned against Murphy’s lips, gripping him tighter for a few moments before he gently pushed Murphy back a little.

“I’m sorry, I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow though, alright?”

Murphy nodded, breathing deeply and desperately trying dampen the signs of his arousal as he awkwardly left Bellamy’s lap. He pulled a hand through his hair and cleared his throat with a nod.

“Yeah, yeah I’ll… tomorrow… yeah.”

Bellamy eyed him with amusement written all over his face. When he passed Murphy he slipped in a small peck on the lips, whispering a ‘goodbye’ before disappearing out. The door closed almost soundlessly after his departure and Murphy sagged down on his bed with a groan.

Since his head was not going to help him deflate his problem, seeing as how it kept replaying the evening’s make-out session over and over again, he had no choice but to, literally, take matters into his own hands.

Satisfied and drained, he burrowed himself down under the covers and fell asleep.

-

He fidgeted nervously while he waited. He needed to do this. Needed to at least try.

His door opened and Kane stepped in, stoic and cold as always while he took a quick scan of Murphy.

“Miller said you requested to talk to me mister Murphy?” he asked, and eyebrow raised up high.

Murphy nodded and rubbed the back of his neck while he cleared his throat.

“It is about my sentence and-“

“The sentence is already delivered and there is less than two weeks left until it is carried out.” Kane commented with annoyance. Murphy should have punched him in the face instead.

“Yes. I know. But I also know that you quite like the other person this punishment concerns.” His voice was ice as he glared at the man. “And I want you to propose something to the only one whose mind is worth changing at the moment.”

Kane surveyed him for a few moments before he nodded, mouth pinched.

“And what is that?”

Murphy took a deep breath and tried to get rid of the anger before he continued. He needed Kane to believe it to be a good idea to even have a chance at affecting Jaha.

“I want you to propose that… I will spend the rest of my life inside this cell, or any other, in the exchange that Bellamy and Octavia lives. There is no family or relative of mine to complain about this, I will be locked up and not cause any harm and have no contact with anyone but the guards and you get to keep a promising guard and you won’t have two female Griffins loathing you for the rest of your life.”

Kane lifted his eyebrow once more and there was a small malignant smile curving the left side of his mouth.

“You want to rot in a cell until you die of old age in exchange for two people. My, I never thought you to be so unselfish Murphy.”

“Think what you will, that is what I’m proposing.” He growled out, cheeks hot and eyes hard.

There was silence while Kane studied him closely, scrutinizing everything before he gave a quick nod and moved towards the door.

“I’ll let him know.”

Murphy watched him go, a small sense of relief growing inside his chest.

-

“Is the book not good? I wasn’t sure if you’d like it but it see-“

“You know it’s not about the book.”

Bellamy’s dark eyes were glued to him while Murphy kept his own gaze down at the pages of the book Murphy had brought him. _Pride & Prejudice_, a birthday gift from Bellamy along with a small stick of chocolate. It was more than he had gotten for his birthday in a long time. And the book was even a hardcover, without any duct tape. He was not reading it at all though. No, his mind was elsewhere. It was with Mbege, wondering how his friend would react to not seeing Murphy at breakfast tomorrow. It was with Octavia, hoping she would be strong enough to take the news of their deaths. It was in the room with him and Bellamy, fantasizing about how their lives could have been if not for Jaha’s determination to see him dead, if Murphy had been pardoned.

He merely glanced in Bellamy’s direction when he heard the small thud from a book closing and felt the bed dip ever so little when it was put down. Bellamy grabbed the book in Murphy’s own grasp and he was just about to tell him off when his soulmate began to speak.

“ _Let us drop war now, you and I, and give ourselves to pleasure in our bed. My soul was never so possessed by_ \- shit, wait, I- crap I forgot the rest.” Bellamy grimaced with a smile “but still, I asked Kane and I was allowed to stay the night so come on… give me the book and then we’ll spend the rest of night making out and feeling each other up. How does that sound?”

He pried the book away from him without any resistance. Murphy was too busy staring at him to put up a fight.

“You just quoted the Iliad.” He exclaimed, his voice betraying the shock and amusement he felt. Bellamy shrugged, placing his hands on Murphy’s hip and leg before guiding him onto his lap. Murphy did not put up any resistance to this either.

“So what? You thought you were the only smart one out of the two of us?”

“Yes.”

 “Stop grinning you insolent little shit. I might just ravage you if you don’t.” Bellamy chuckled, ruffling his hair. Murphy swatted his hand away, letting his grin grow as he ground down at Bellamy’s crotch. His worries had magically disappeared and had been replaced with that _need_ that only Bellamy could invoke in him.

“Well, you are _kinda_ sexy when you quote Homer so…” he dipped in for a quick kiss, ending it with a small nibble of Bellamy’s bottom lip. Just to tease him a little bit. “I might just let you.” He offered.

“That was all I needed to get you hot and bothered? Quoting classical literature?” Bellamy mused, clearly entertained. He grabbed Murphy’s hand and viewed it fondly, dragging a thumb over it and making Murphy shiver. Bellamy studied him curiously before bringing the hand up to his mouth, pressing his lips against the inscription. A flash of warmth swept through his body and the need grew within him.

“Just stop talking and start kissing me, _officer_.” He almost growled, grabbing Bellamy by the neck with his free hand. Bellamy wrapped one arm around his waist and pressed them together tightly. Murphy’s hand was dropped in favor of burying the now unoccupied hand in Murphy’s hair.

“As you wish, inmate.” He rumbled, capturing his lips in a lustful kiss.

The kissing grew more daring as time went by, as did hands. Somewhere during the stroking, groping and exploring they both soon found themselves shirtless and halfway out or their pants. The air around them were heavy with lust and longing and need.

“We won’t do anything you don’t want to, Murphy.” Bellamy’s lips mumbled against Murphy’s own and he gave a snort, his hand venturing inside Bellamy’s briefs rather audaciously. This was to be Murphy’s last night in this life. Maybe he was greedy but he wanted, needed, everything his soulmate could offer him in these last moments. This, indeed, included.

“I’m not dying a virgin so you better fuck me.” He stated firmly as his hand hesitantly closed around Bellamy’s throbbing member, the action eliciting an almost carnal cry from the man and Murphy was rewarded with a hand tugging at his waistband. Soon thereafter they were both naked, completely exposed to one another, while hands grew even more daring. Especially Bellamy’s.

Murphy hissed in surprise as he felt the cold and gooey substance and looked up at Bellamy, towering over him, with astonishment. The older man held up a small vial with a cheeky grin while shrugging his shoulders and mumbling a small ‘Clarke’ in explanation. Murphy was both touched, abashed and horrified at the same time but once Bellamy started to prepare him everything melted away and was conquered by other feelings. New feelings. Feelings he might have imagined in a wet dream or two. Dreams that might have included Bellamy. Dreams that were now happening.

Wet lips nipped at the skin of his throat. Hands played with his nipples to distract him, and oh how they distracted him, while Bellamy, as gently as he could, sunk deep inside him. Murphy writhed beneath him, there was some discomfort and not even Bellamy’s talented hands could make him ignore that bit. But patience is a virtue and Bellamy seemed to own a lot of it. He waited for Murphy to adjust, waited for him to be ready while panting against his neck and kissing it tenderly.

“Ready.” Murphy whispered at last, his body having forgotten the discomfort and on the hunt for whatever would quench the _need_ that grew in the pit of his stomach with every hot and moist breath he felt against his skin. And Bellamy started to move. He moved gently at first and asked often enough if Murphy was alright. And then the pace quickened gradually, quickening and quickening, finally culminating in a steady thrusting which flooded them both with pleasurable waves again and again. Sounds, lust filled and deep, escaped Murphy’s lips over and over. Communicating for him what his mind could not.

An exceptionally hoarse cry rang through the air as Bellamy grasped his hand, rasping his thumb over Murphy’s knuckles. The cry was enough to prompt him to do it again, and then again and then again. Each time he did it the hoarse cry would sound, accompanied by sparks of pleasure and desire shooting through him. He was close, he was so close. He wanted Bellamy to be as close as he was, wanted them to cum together in a final act of bonding.

He lifted his hand, having had to unclench it from the tightly grasped sheets, and cupped Bellamy’s cheek. Gently, through the mist of his own lust, he stroked this thumb over the name and reveled in the moan which left his soulmate’s throat. He repeated the touch, enjoying every sound that left Bellamy, enjoyed how the small contact was enough to make Bellamy’s otherwise steady pace waver. He was so terribly close.

“Bellamy.” He whined desperately.

“I know. Me too.”

The hand holding his managed to close both their hands around Murphy’s own cock, Bellamy’s fingers covered his like a blanket, guiding Murphy’s hand up and down while still managing to provide friction for the name across the knuckles.

It was all he could take and soon he erupted, body quaking underneath Bellamy as he lifted his head just enough to capture his soulmate’s lips with his. He moaned into that mouth, riding out the waves of his climax as he felt Bellamy land a final thrust before enjoying a climax of his own.

-

Bellamy’s arm around him felt nice. As nice as the sensation of the man’s other hand gently stroking over his skin. He could feel Bellamy’s heart beating beneath his hand, his head would lift with every breath he took. It was nice. It was more than nice. It was simply perfect.

It was also soon to be over.

The thought must have made him look miserable because the hand previously leaving goosebumps now gently pried his face upwards so his eyes could meet Bellamy’s worried ones. The older man gave him a warm smile.

“Cheer up.” He mumbled right before bending down, capturing Murphy’s lips in a tender kiss. It filled Murphy with warmth and he could not help but smile, moving his hand from Bellamy’s heart to cup his cheek.

“ _You have witchcraft in your lips_.” He murmured against the other’s lips. Bellamy’s brows drew together as he planted a kiss on Murphy’s forehead.

“What?” he asked, confusion coloring his voice. It tore an amused little laugh from the prisoner, who settled down with his cheek to the guard’s chest and his hand resting over his heart once more.

“Shakespeare. It’s from- you know what? Never mind. Forget I said it and get back to cuddling me. You idiot.”

“Maybe I would if you’d ask me nicely.” Bellamy mocked with a grin even as he continued tracing his fingertips over Murphy’s skin, making the younger one sigh in contentment.

If this was how his life was to end, Murphy figured it was not too bad. He was allowed to spend his last moments of life with his so called soulmate.

He had just had sex. Mind-blowingly good sex to boot.

He would not have to die alone.

There was definitely worse ways to go.

_You might not have to die, Abbey might still make it. Kane might have changed Jaha’s mind._

He pushed the thought away. There was just no chance of that happening.

_Bellamy might still change his mind_.

He swallowed around the lump that started to grow in his throat. He knew that Bellamy would not change his mind. Not when he had a chance to save his sister. Not even for Murphy. He was okay with that. Really. He was. He had no choice but to be and, to be honest, he could see why Bellamy was doing this. The girl did deserve a chance at life. She deserved it more than Murphy did at least.

“Hey, I told you to cheer up.” Bellamy’s breath blew his hair, making it tickle his ear and once more Murphy smiled.

“Sorry Officer Blake, I’m not good with taking orders.”

Bellamy’s eyes blackened in an instance and the smirk turned almost voracious, the hand that previously stroked his skin with ghostly touches had now turned firmer and was pleasantly travelling across Murphy’s skin.

“Well, we’ve got a few hours to correct that, _inmate_.”

Murphy shuddered as a grin spread across his lips and he straddled Bellamy’s lap in seconds, kissing him greedily.

All of this would be over soon, but until then he would make the most of it.

-

They were both dressed and ready when the door gave a little beep and opened for Kane, who stepped in without pause. He had his arms behind his back and looked them both over with an air of impatience around him. He gestured for them both to follow him and left just as quickly as he had entered.

Murphy’s hands would not stop shaking as he fell behind Bellamy when they both left the cell. He took a quick look back at his home for the last six years and felt an ache settle inside his chest. Silently he said goodbye, trailing after Bellamy and Kane.

No guards accompanied them on their journey to the airlock. It was both a compliment and an insult in Murphy’s head but he said nothing about it. It showed both trust and superiority. And it was not him Kane trusted, it was Bellamy. He gritted his teeth and clenched his shaking fists, pushed them deep down his pockets.

There were two guards by the airlock though, Miller and Byrnes. Neither Octavia nor Mbege were present. And no Abbey. Clarke was there though.

Murphy watched as they hugged, Clarke crying and Bellamy comforting her. It was not right. Bellamy did not deserve this. This was his fault.

The thought had only just swept through his head when the two friends parted and Bellamy took a place by his side, gently grasping his hand as they faced Kane.

The man stood with his arms clasped behind his back in front of the airlock and surveyed them, much like he had done when he had fetched them. Did he have to drag this out?

“We have decided that the most humane thing to do is float you at the same time.” His voice was grave and serious, lacking any warmth or empathy. Good old reliable Kane. “I would like to ask you both to take of your shoes, please.”

Both did as asked and Murphy stared at his worn boots. Poor bastard who would receive them.

Once more he stood there, staring at them both before he finally gave a nod to Byrnes. Murphy winced at the creaking from the inner doors when they opened. It was not merely his hand that shook now.

He did not want Bellamy to notice though so he moved quickly inside the airlock, his head held high while he walked.

In front of him he could see the vastness of space and he wondered what would get him first, oxygen loss or the temperature. A chill went through his body and he turned around, kept his eyes from Bellamy who had taken a place next to him and they were both now facing the people attending their funeral.

The doors closed and Murphy felt almost claustrophobic. Kane began to talk at the other side but it was muted where the two of them stood. The head guard was definitely dragging it out.

His heart hammered in his chest, thundered and thumped as he fought to keep his breathing under control.

_Don’t faint. Don’t faint. Don’t faint_.

Skin against skin met when Bellamy caught his hand once more. He laced their fingers together and stroked his mark with this thumb. Calm washed over him, chased away the panic and the slowed down his beating heart. Murphy squeezed his soulmate’s hand as Kane droned on behind the glass.

“He’s looking at the door.” Bellamy’s voice was just a whisper but Murphy heard it clearer than any shout.

He turned his head to Bellamy, giving him a tired look.

“Sure he his.”

Bellamy met his gaze, grinning slightly.

“He is.”

Murphy frowned, turning his eyes toward Kane once more and kept them there. Bellamy was right. While he talked, Kane did glance at the door from time to time.

Hope flared through him, like a flushing ember it sparked and he squeezed Bellamy’s hand again.

“He’s looking at the door.” He whispered, his voice excited and scared at the same time. Bellamy nodded and let go of his hand, slipped his arm around Murphy’s waist instead with a ‘told you’ against the shell of his ear. Murphy smiled.

But the smile soon vanished. He saw Kane glance back at the door one final time, his face caught in a frown as he finished his speech. Everyone knew he could not drag it out any longer.

Murphy met the eyes of the man for a brief second, saw the look of regret in them before he gave the order to Byrnes.

He felt cold inside, even as Bellamy pressed him close against him. Tears ran down his cheeks and dripped down on the dirty metal floor beneath their feet. He noticed that even Byrnes tried to drag it out but he knew it would do no good now. Her finger hovered over the button and in the exact moment she was to press down, the door opened.

Everyone turned their gazes to the woman entering.

“Back away Byrnes. Don’t you dare press that button!”

Byrnes dutifully backed away, did not even need to look at Kane for confirmation. She even moved out of the way as Abbey stepped past her and opened the first door of the airlock.

Murphy was too shocked to move, his heart still beating like a jackhammer in his chest and Bellamy had to drag him out with him. Out, back into the Ark. To ‘solid ground’ as Mbege probably would call it.

Clarke was on them in an instant, hugging them both to her in a tight grip as Abbey’s and Kane’s voices carried over them.

“He changed his mind then?”

“Yes and no. The rest of the council decided that the bad reputation was something they didn’t need and voted for their freedom, just like you predicted. Jaha pushed the points you said he would so I offered the proposal and the council thought it good enough. Jaha had to agree to it, but I don’t think he liked it at all.”

“Good thing he doesn’t have much say unless there’s a tie.”

“Indeed it is.”

Murphy’s wits had by now returned to him and he awkwardly wriggled out of Clarke’s arms, still not letting go of the comfort of Bellamy’s hand though.

“So… how much time do I have before they lock me up then?” he asked, looking straight at Kane, trying to stop trembling.

Kane was, rather terrifyingly so, smiling warmly at him. His hands rested behind his back but he looked a lot less stiff than he usually did. He shared a look with Abbey, who just like Kane was smiling.

“Oh no, that wasn’t the proposal we offered. I did think your idea over but then Abbey came with a much better one. You’re not getting locked up. You’d just keep attacking my guards, not to mention all the hassle I’ll get from Bellamy’s side.” He gave them both a pointed look. “No, you are getting sent to earth. Both of you are, since we can’t float you without killing an innocent man and Bellamy is going with you since we don’t want him to stay behind and whine our ears off.”

Murphy stared at him, blinked once and then twice before eliciting a ‘what’. He felt an arm slip around his waist, pulling him back against a warm chest. Bellamy’s chin rested on his shoulder and Murphy felt his breath against his throat.

It was still a very high probability of them dying on their way down, on impact, first breath of air or even soon thereafter yet he could not care less at the moment.

He had gotten a second chance.

Bellamy had not died because of him. His soulmate was still alive.

“I assume he stays with me until we leave?” Bellamy’s voiced hummed out next to his ear and Murphy closed his eyes, leaned his head heavily against Bellamy’s torso.

“Yes, that is the plan. And as an apology to you Blake, I have made sure that your sister will be part of the landing party as well.” Kane’s response made him open his eyes and he furrowed his brows together in worry. Bellamy seemed unfazed though. Well, not unfazed – more like happy, merely nodding with a slight smile.

Abbey cleared her throat, giving Murphy and Bellamy a warm smile.

“I think we should all move along now, Kane and I have things to do and so do Clarke, Byrnes and Miller. You should take mister Murphy to his new room and then we can all talk further of this later. Alright?”

Bellamy nodded and reluctantly let go of Murphy’s torso in favor of his hand, dragging him along with Clarke trailing behind them. Murphy went with no complaints at all. He only braided their fingers together.

There was still a heavy lump in his stomach, accompanied by a voice in his head telling him that this was wrong. That it was a mistake and soon they would come and tell him as much and then haul him away to float him anyway.

He tasted blood. His bottom lip had split under the attention of his teeth.

“-and my bed might be a little bit too small for two but we can probably make it work if- hey Murphy, are you listening?” Bellamy glanced at him over his shoulder.

Murphy swallowed thickly. God he was beautiful.

“You’re bleeding.” It was a statement. Laced with concern and confusion. Bellamy stopped and turned around to face him properly. Along the way they had lost Clarke, they had probably gone past the medical wing already.

He felt tender hands cradle his face, felt a thumb run over his lip and he shivered. Bellamy gave him a wondering look, waiting but not prodding. Murphy swallowed around the lump in his throat.

“What if it doesn’t last? They can still change their minds and take it back again.”

Bellamy’s face softened and his lips curved ever so slightly.

“Clarke, Kane and Abbey won’t let that happen. Not after all the trouble of making them change their minds in the first place.” Bellamy stroked his cheek, gently coaxing him close so that Murphy was flush against his chest. “We’re family, well Kane might not really count in that category and- but the point is this-“ he gave Murphy a small peck on the lips, looking down at him with a warm but determined face “we fight for family.”

Murphy felt a zap of electricity run through him at Bellamy’s words.

He tested the word in his mind and found he quite liked it.

“Everything will be alright. Okay Murphy?”

Murphy nodded a bit, wringing his head away from Bellamy’s gentle grasp and placed instead his cheek on his shoulder. He saw people glancing their way as they passed them. If he remembered correctly, gossip travelled fast around the Ark. And his name across Bellamy’s face would make the rumors blaze across the station. Soon everyone would have a conception about the two of them. They might not remember who John Murphy was but they should all know Bellamy Blake, the man with a sister and now a soulmate. This would probably be the juiciest thing heard in decades. Yet, he could not care. Not even a little bit. Not when standing in Bellamy’s arms, feeling his breathing and his heart underneath his hands and body. Bellamy could really make it feel like everything was going to be okay.

“Yeah sure.” He uttered in a low voice, started to push at Bellamy ever so slightly. “Now come on, show me your room.”

“ _Our_ room.”

“Whatever, as long as you don’t hog the covers.”

“You’re a dick, Murph.”

“No, but I have one.”

Bellamy laughed and grabbed his hand, dragged him along once more towards _their_ room. It did feel like everything would be alright after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Right so, this one is my longest one yet and my beta has actually yet to read it! ^^'  
> It was also the first time I have written a sex scene so... you know.. be nice!  
> You can find me on tumblr at: ishipityes  
> I hope you guys enjoyed it and as Always: feel free to comment or point out errors! :D
> 
> Quotes:  
> Maybe there is a beast… maybe it’s only us - lord of the flies  
> Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires. - Macbeth  
> Let us drop war now, you and I, and give ourselves to pleasure in our bed. My soul was never so possessed by - The Illiad  
> You have witchcraft in your lips - Henry V


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